


After All You've Done

by manonrose284



Series: After All the Darkness You Give Us Light [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I Tried, Lance Family Background, Minor Lance Whump, More character development than the show, Shiro (Voltron) Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Shiro (Voltron) Whump, Shiro Family Background, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-04
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-06-04 22:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15157085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manonrose284/pseuds/manonrose284
Summary: Just another day for the paladins of Voltron and their Altean friends. Rescue-op on a planet with a toxic atmosphere where exposure means a slow and painful death. What could go wrong? A lot actually...Set mostly on the Castle of Lions as the paladins try desperately to save one of their own.Grab your tissues and your tea ;)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting a fic so I hope I don't mess it up too badly!  
> I plan to post every few days.  
> The first two chapters are pretty short but they get longer I promise!  
> Like I said this is my first one so feel free to comment any advice.
> 
> Thanks :)

The Castle of Lions synthetic air is full of anticipation. The paladins, Allura, and Coran all stand on the bridge; the plan going through each of their heads. Allura had briefed them all that morning on their newest mission.

A planet with a toxic atmosphere was at risk of attracting unwanted Galra attention. In control of the planet, the Galra could create bioweapons from the deadly air. Their job was to relocate inhabitants to a sister planet who could guard the toxic one from afar.

Allura had stressed the dangerous nature of the seemingly simple mission, "Exposure leads to a reversal of the healing process. This would result in the reopening of old wounds."

Coran could only find two protective suits equipped with adequate air purifiers.” Shiro had volunteered himself and Hunk saying they are the strongest and most able to pull the rescue sleds.

“Sorry number one, but even with the suits, there is still a chance at exposure. I'm guessing Keith and Lance have the least amount of major scar tissue. Yet, they will be strong enough to haul the creatures off their scary planet.” Coran had said, grabbing their arm muscles with a squeeze.

Shiro tried to object, there’s no way he would let anyone get hurt, but Allura intervened.

“Shiro, you’re welcome to go…” he had smiled and stepped toward the suits. “...but I need to see some proof that you do not have any significant scarring.”

At that Shiro had frozen in place, “Nevermind. I’ll watch from the bridge”

 

****

 

Everything was going as planned. Keith and Lance bringing sled after sled of creatures to the Castle of Lions. But suddenly the sound of Keith cursing slices through the loud chatter of the creatures. An alarm on Coran's tablet flashes.

“Keith! Your suit has been compromised!” Coran yelled

“Fell on my back. I think the purifiers lock is cracking” Keith curses again, realizing what Shiro’s going to say.

“Get back to the castle before the integrity is lost."

"Shiro's right, we can't risk you getting exposed," Pidge says in an analytical tone. Keith could picture her standing over a tablet calculating the teams chance of success.

“It's alright Keith, I got this!” Lance voiced reassuringly. He turned to Keith and gave a thumbs up.

Once inside with his suit off, he went through the decontamination hall and joined the others. There were still two more trips worth of creatures. Lance delivered one and headed back for the last. Pidge notices how Lances pace has slowed and he was stumbling from exhaustion. She was about to voice her concern when Allura spoke.

“Lance I know you’ve done a lot but you only have one remaining. Please hurry, your suit only has a few more dobashes left. It is so old we do not know exactly how many,” her words filled with urgency.

Hunk who was standing beside Shiro heard him whisper “He's not gonna make it”  
He grabs his paladin helmet and sprints out the door. They all scream after him...


	2. Chapter 2

They all screamed after him, but their fearless leader didn’t stop running until he reached a very surprised Lance.

Eyes wide he stammered “what are you doing!” He yelled “you’ll get exposed get back inside!”

“That’s where I’m going. Let’s go!” with one hand he takes the sled cord and with the other arm grabs lance. 

“What’re you doing?”

“Carrying you’re tired ass back to the castle before you run out of breathable air”

“Good plan.” Despite the seriousness of the situation, lance broke into his signature smug smile.

“Hurry Shiro!” Allura screamed over the comm.

He ran as fast as he could with the weight of the sled and blue paladin. Once inside, he takes his helmet off and crouches over trying to catch his breath. The paladins crowd around him, cursing his stupidity in their heads but not at all surprised. It was such a ‘Shiro’ thing to do Hunk thought to himself. They all knew he’d rather die than let one of the paladins get exposed.

They all looked worried and Allura speaks up, “We need to make sure you weren’t exp-”

“I’m fine, we need to leave. Now. Before the Galra get here,” Shiro says in full leader mode once again. At that they all broke from their trance and hurried to the bridge. All except for Keith who watched shiro get up, searching for any indication of exposure.

Shrio notices him watching and straightens his posture, striding to the bridge. Coran is punching coordinates for the portal leading to the creatures’ new home while Allura attaches to the controls. Hunk, Pidge, and Lance are keeping an eye on the creatures and Keith is logging everything into the records.

Shiro asks to speak with the creatures’ leader who is so grateful for the transport that he asks how he could thank them. Shiro makes sure no one is looking and leads him into the hallway, handing him a piece of paper and a pen.

Everyone was too busy with their own tasks that nobody, not even Shiro, notices the multitude of hairline fractures on his discarded helmet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter, they will be getting longer and more detailed I'm just setting up the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the Kudos!! It seriously means so much <3

Lance lets out a satisfied groan as he melts into the soft couch next to Hunk who grunts in agreement. Earth’s furniture had nothing on the luxurious Altean cushions. Everyone is sprawled out in the lounge, exhausted by the events of the day.

Pidge looks around from her lazy position on the floor. She remembers when they used to take non mission times for granted by not resting. Not anymore. The second a job was done and no immediate threats were found, they all crashed until the alarm blared for Voltron to assemble. 

Getting the creatures to the sister planet went without complications, something Keith was thankful for. He wasn’t sure if his sore legs could take anything else.

Pidge looks over to see Shiro shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He normally has trouble sitting still or letting his guard down enough to relax. Probably due to his horrifying past. She had lost countless nights of sleep thinking how it was possible for Shiro to have survived this long. 

Her analytical and curious mind had worried over the chances of so much darkness hitting one person. She didn’t know how he did it. How he had any hope left. Any will to carry on and help a universe seemed designed to hurt him.

All this meant that Pidge doesn’t worry too much until he takes his head in his hands and makes a soft groan. Despite the quietness of the noise, everyone looks up to their hunched over leader. It was a sound they had never heard him make before. Breaking his wall of stoicism was so unlike Shiro that the paladins looked at eachother confused. He didn’t notice the attention, face still hidden behind his hands.

Allura walked in, following her mice who were scurrying into the room. They pointed frantically to Shiro.

“What is it my little friends?” Shiro still hadn’t lifted his head when Allura soaked in the situation, eyes wide as the paladins.

“Um...Shiro?” Pidge whispers as if he is a stray dog that would run away. He looks up, a flash of surprise across his face for a second, but quickly fixes it into the usual calm composure. 

The sudden change almost fools Pidge. But the way his smile didn’t quite reach the pained look in his eyes shakes her. She has the sinking feeling that something was terribly wrong.

Shrio cleared his throat, uncomfortable with the lingering stares, “Guys I’m fine.”

But they didn’t look away. Keith shifted to the edge of the couch, ready to help, “Shiro are you sure? You look really-”

“I’m fine. Just tired,” his muscled form rose from the seat, “I think I’ll go get some sleep.”

They all stand frozen in place. Something was definitely wrong. Shiro never voluntarily goes to bed. Usually only after being dragged by Allura and Coran with the paladins close behind, pestering him that he's human and needs sleep too. Even before the Kerberos mission, before being captured by the Galra and forced to undergo so much savagery, Keith knew Shiro would rarely sleep. Back in the academy, the pressure of leadership made it hard to do so, Shiro had confessed to him one night. If he wasn’t constantly taking care of something or making himself useful, he felt like a disappointment.

Frozen beside the others, Hunk watches Shrio make his way out the room, trying to hide a crouched limp.

“Uh...did you guys...did you see that too?” Hunk sounded like he’d seen a ghost. One look on either side was confermation enough that he hadn't imagined the uncharacteristic behavior.

“Should we go…” Lance starts, for once at a loss for words. Allura nods and Keith leads the way to Shiro’s room.

They turn the corner and Keith runs straight into Coran.

"There you all are. I was repairing some of the-"

"It can wait, follow us," Allura says her face schooled into mock calmness. Coran had only seen that look a handful of times, none of them plesant. He falls into his familiar place beside the princess and listens as they catch him up as they near the door.

Coran steps forward but pauses, looking to the others. Keith gives a grim nod and Coran rapps lightly on the metal with his long fingers. He can feel the princess and paladins holding their breaths behind him.

Anticipation rises with each passing tick, but only silence fills the air. Keith losses patience and tries again slightly harder, “Please let us in Shiro!”

“We just want to make sure you’re ok,” Hunk begged.

They pressed their ears to the door. If not for the seriousness of it all, Lance might of laughed at the sight; everyone pushed to the door like they could extract a sound.

“No” Shiro rasped, pausing to let out an irrepressible groan of pain. From inside the room, Shrio looked down at his chest to see an old puncture wound ripping open. His head swam, “can’t...see me...like this.”

The others were getting more worried.

“Please Shiro! We want to help!” Each of them begs or speaks encouraging words in an attempt to coax him out.

But they stand upright, almost in sync, at a sound erupting from behind the door.

“What is that?!” Lance yells over the sound.

They turn to the door with horrified expressions as they realize what they are hearing...

their fearless leader screaming in pain.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos and comments make my day! Thank you all <3
> 
> Now we’re getting to the ‘good’ stuff.
> 
> ^U^

Keith grabs for his bayard, the howl of agony getting progressively louder. Lance helps cut through the thick metal separating them from the pandemonium. 

Halfway through, the cries cease and an eerie quiet takes hold. The metal finally crashes to the floor. They all step in slowly, letting their eyes adjust to the darkness. 

Allura puts a hand over her mouth at the sight before her. 

Shiro is flat on his back shaking, pained whimpers escaping his clenched teeth. 

Keith rushes to his bedside. Hands hovering over the trembling form, not sure where to land for fear of causing more pain. 

Pidge appears next to Keith and points to Shiro's abdomen. He hadn’t noticed yet how Shiro was cradling it with his flesh arm. 

Leaning closer Keith tries to lift the dark fabric of Shiro's t-shirt. The Galra arm is suddenly shielding his abdomen, the room filling with purple light. 

Shiro looks at Keith with unfocused eyes, “please...don’t” he takes a labored breath, “I don’t-don’t want you to see.” 

“I need to see what’s wrong. I’ll be gentle but you gotta move your arms.” Hunk had never heard Keith’s voice sound so soft. 

“Come on number one we can get you fixed up in no time,” Coran added.

Shiro was fighting to stay alert. He shakes his head, eyes set with the same determination that had saved his life so many times.

“No.”

Keith looked to the others, disbelief on each face. 

“I’m sorry but we have to make sure you’re not hurt. You have a history of not caring for yourself,” Keith had Shiro's ‘leader voice’ as he spoke.

“Allura, Coran hold him down. Sorry Shiro.” 

In his weakened state, Allura easily restrained him while Coran held the still ignited Galra arm. Something must be really wrong for Shiro to be restrained without Allura breaking a sweat, Pidge thought. 

Even with her Altean strength and size, Pidge had noticed that Allura had a hard time with Shiro's muscled form and fighting skill during training or when she had to carry him to bed. A mission in itself, which usually took both the Princess and Coran. 

Alluras concerned look deepened when Shiro tried to wriggle from her grasp. What worried her most was that she was able to stop him with one hand. 

Keith lifts the fabric slowly which elicits a nauseating peeling sound. He hesitates knowing that could only mean one thing. 

With the shirt completely scrunched under Shiro's neck, Keith removes his hand from the dark cloth and stares intently at his hand.

“Can I get some light please?” He asks no one in particular. 

Pidge scurries over with the flashlight from her tablet and shines it on Keith’s hand. She almost drops the tablet when they see his hand covered in thick red blood. 

Eyes wide, they slowly turn as she shines it on the source. Lance sucks in a sharp breath, Allura stands wide eyed, Hunk of all people curses, Keith clenches the bridge of his nose and this time Pidge does drop the tablet. 

Coran grabs it from the floor and begins examining Shiro's now unconscious form. 

Blood is trickling from a fresh wound running the length of his left abdominal muscles. Realization hits him; this isn’t a fresh wound...it’s a freshly OPENED wound. 

“Hey isn’t that… doesn’t that look just like-” Lance stammers. 

“...the injury he got a few missions ago” Pidge finishes in a whisper. 

The mission had gone south and Pidge had almost gotten captured by Galra soldiers. They had strayed from their posts and stumbled upon Pidge downloading battle plans and planting computer viruses. 

With the other paladins flying outside the Galra ship in their lions, creating a distraction for her, Shiro had hauled ass into the center of the ship to save her. They’d almost made it to the black lion, just one long hallway to freedom, when a soldier came out of nowhere and lunged at Pidge. Utterly exhausted, it was all Shiro could do to throw himself in front of the green paladin; taking the hit for her.

Shiro had saved her life. Again. That wound and the sound he’d made as the knife grazed through his already scar covered flesh would haunt her forever. 

And now he was reliving it. 

“He got exposed.” The team nodded sadly as Allura voiced what they were all coming to terms with. 

They all jumped when Shiro began to stir. Discomfort painted clearly on his face, unable to hide it. 

Lance tore into the black paladin, “you were exposed when you rescued me! I told you to go back! They told you not to go!” He gestured wildly at the others. 

Shiro winced as Lances volume rose and at the his tone. Keith was just as surprised. He’d never seen Lance so hysterical. 

Shiro shakes his head and winces again, “Couldn’t let you die.”

“Shiro I only have like three scar-”

“Wait,” Pidge puts her hand up, “what do you mean he would die?”

Shiros finger twitches toward his desk, “talked to the creatures leader. He wrote down everything about the toxin,” he pauses to slow his breathing. Deep breaths aggravate the slice in his side too much, “I wanted to know incase the Galra got it.”

Of course he had, Keith thought, shaking his head. Shiro was always thinking ten steps ahead. 

Pidge retrieves the paper and reads it. After what Hunk swore was an eternity, her glasses resurfaced. 

The eyes behind filled with pity as she glanced to Shiro. His lips were in a thin line as he nodded to her in assurance. 

What the heck, Pidge thought, here he is facing all this..and he’s still reassuring HER?

“Well?? What’s it say?” Lance says, bouncing nervously in place. 

In full analytic mode to keep the words from sinking in, causing an emotional breakdown, pidge replies.  
“It says that the toxin binds to the infected person's blood. The only way to rid the toxin from the host is to...bleed it out.” 

She’d had to read that line over a few times, “In simple terms; less scars to open equals less blood loss which means less toxin can be released and more remains in the body. Which results in the host...dying.”

They all turn to Shiro who is extremely still as to not shift the wound. Blank, horrified, astonished faces turn to him. 

Hunk breaks the silence; getting as worked up as Lance was. 

”We need to get him stitched up! Or in cryo! Or- I don’t know...we gotta do something!” 

“No” Pidge and Shiro say simultaneously. The later sounding desperate. 

Pidge takes a deep breath to suppress the quiver in her voice, “We do that and the toxin can’t escape. Shiro will die.”

One by one they look from Pidge to Shiro. 

“You gotta let me bleed.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I know it’s been a few days since the last chapter. Sorry! Hope you enjoy :)

“How often is this happening?” Coran questions.

“Huh?” Shiro grunts, mind still hazy from the pain. Keith’s brow furrows, he’s never seen Shiro so disoriented.

Coran tries again with extreme patience, “Are the scars opening regularly? I noticed you have a few other small openings. But I'm guessing you can’t feel them compared to…” He waves to Shiro's blood stained side.

Shiros face scrunches up in concentration, “Every hour.”

Lance translates for the Alteans.

Coran nods and turns to the group. He's all business as he addresses them, “Allura and I will go set up a room in the medbay then get a stretcher.”

Once they leave, awkwardness fills the room. The only noise is the shallow breathing coming from the bed.

Keith clears his voice while gathering the courage to look at Shiro's mangled form without flinching.

“Is there anything we can do to make this better?”

Pidge shakes her head, the motion full of sorrow, “It’ll only get worse as more and more open.”

Lances stomach twists as he takes in Shiro's exposed flesh. So many scars litter the pale skin; it seems impossible. How did he survive even getting these?

“Hey Shiro?” the black paladin looks up, “What did you do in the…” Lance hesitates, not wanting to trigger a panic attack, “...in the arena when you got these?”

Pidge had been wondering the same thing. There’s no way he could’ve survived given the conditions a Galra prisoner faced. She certainly wasn't an expert, but the paladins had seen enough prison quarters during missions.

Shiro was quiet for so long, Keith thought he wouldn’t answer. But after gathering enough energy to speak he explained.

“I became champion when I took down every monster put against me. Savage beasts and altered Galra soldiers that deserved to die. But they eventually got bored and decided to change things.” Shiro closes his eyes and takes a deep breath despite the way it causes more blood to flow.

“They started putting unarmed, innocent slaves in the arena with me every few days in between my usual fights.”

Keith puts a hand on Shiro's shoulder to keep him grounded. He couldn’t imagine Shiro ever harming an innocent. He gave a weak smile in silent thanks.

“At first I refused. I took the lashings and electrical prods from the handlers until I couldn’t breathe.” He shakes his head trying in vain to make the memory go away. If only it was that simple.

“The second time I refused, they took me to a cell and held my eyes open, forcing me to watch-” His voice cracks, vocal cords terrified at the memory.

“Forcing me to watch them slowly skin the innocent I had refused to kill.”

“The other prisoners heard the poor creatures cry’s- heard him make me promise to kill everything put in front of me. To save them from dying horribly at the hands of the Galra.”

He didn’t look up. Couldn’t bare to see his friends as they realized what a monster he truly was.

“The other slaves realized that death from me was a mercy compared to the horrors of the Galra. They gave me their water rations and I used them to clean my wounds. They knew...they knew I was going to kill them and yet...they sacrificed everything to keep me alive. And I did. After that day, I killed every single one. I never broke my promise.”

Lance couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Shiro would never do that. Could never do that. It wasn’t in his dna.

That’s when it dawned on him that Shiro hadn’t been able to. It had broken his mind, leaving behind enough ptsd and survivors guilt to make a seasoned war veteran cry.

“Sometimes I had to cauterize the large wounds with my hand. And for the kill shots, the ones too close to organs, they’d drag me into a cryo pod. Just long enough for the skin to close.”

Pidge winced at the flashing image in her head of Shiro screaming in a cold dark cell. Alone with only the smell of filth to keep company. The only light coming from the purple metal and burning flesh.

No one spoke for a few minutes during which Shiro stopped fighting consciousness and drifted off.

“Quiznak.” Hunk whispered forcefully, everything catching up to him. Keith nodded in agreement. Shiro had never told him any of that. He wasn’t surprised though. He had only shared one or two events from his dark past.

Allura and Coran quietly step through the jagged doorway, stretcher in tow. Allura can tell something happened while she was gone. Keith gave her a look through his ragged bangs that said ‘I’ll tell you later’.

The Alteans soundlessly position the stretcher on the edge of the bed and activate a hovering mechanism. Pidge looks at it curiously. There’s no way a little sheet of cushion with some anti-gravity tech could hold Shiro's massive form.

Pidge was wrong.

Allura and Coran slid their hands under opposite ends of the black paladin and transfer him to the board. It gave no indication of the weight. Not even a dip.

Despite their gentle movements, Shiro stirs awake with a groan of pain.

“You doin ok there Shiro?” Lance asks from beside the stretcher. Coran pushes some more buttons and they start navigating out the door.

“I’m fine” but Lance doesn’t miss the split second of worry flash across his face.

****

The medical room didn’t remind Hunk of any hospital room he’d ever seen. No chemical smell or white walls filled with scary looking instraments. This defiantly wasn't the Garrison infirmary.

It was about the size of their bedrooms, with soft grey walls lined with calming blue lights and a simple bed long enough to fit their leader. Two large windows ocupy either side of the bed. The dark sparkling vastness of space complementing the blue sheets quite nicely.

Coran glides Shiro toward the bed as Allura hits a button on the comlex controler to lower the matress.

After a few grunts and mumbled “sorry’s” Shiro is now laying at an adjusted angle, eyes closed, his red chest rising and falling deeply.

“Right,” Coran contimplates the uncomfortable looking black paladins position, reaching for the control pad, “hang tight number one; I’m just gonna move-”

Shiro's eyes fly open and he seizes the controler quickly, eyes pleading.

“That’s enough moving for one day,” his face softens, “thanks though.”

Coran doesn’t mind and puts on his mustache framed smile, “Quite understandable number one. Now let us see…” he grabs his chin, reading his tablet. Allura fills a large bowl with water from the sink and removes a blue cloth from the cabinet below.

Coran nods to Allura and swivels back to Shiro on his chair.

“Allura is going to clean that up a bit,” He points to Shiro vaugly and puts a finger up when he tries to protest.

“She will be gentle I promise. Now, to keep your mind off that I need to ask you a few questions.”

Allura moves in and Keith hovers close reasuringly. Pidge notices how Shiro tenses up, his muscles taught, anticipating the pain.

Shiro wonders if he’s stable enough to run back to the safety of his room without passing out. Going through the north hall would cut time. Could lock the door and cushion it so they don’t hear me scream. Oh wait, I don’t have a door since they cut it.

Maybe just hide in Black or-

Coran notices Shiro’s heart rate skyrocketing on the moniter so he interjects.

“I need to keep track of which scars open and maybe your rate of pain on a scale of 1-10. It will be the only way for us to track how much longer till the toxin is fully gone. You’ll need to let us know when new ones are opening.”

Allura takes the chance while Shiro is gathering energy to respond. She gently wipes the sensitive skin, pulling the now red soaked cloth. Shiro breathes deeply is able to stay controlled. He tries not to think about how much blood there is or why it doesn’t continue to flow.

He focuses on the paladins instead. He’s never seen them so worried or helpless before.

Shiros chest constricts when he realizes that he’s causing them pain. What kind of leader is he? I’m no leader he thinks, mind drifting back to the memory he’d shared earlier.

Coran was still waiting for an answer but Shiro was too lost in his warring mind. Keith could sense the conflict and softly touches his shoulder. It was something he’d learned to help ground Shiro during a panic attack.

“Shiro?” The black paladins eyes refocused and he scrunched his brow.

“The war isn’t going to stop just because I’m weak. You can’t all stay with me and if only one of you does, you won’t get sleep or be able to care for yourself.”

“Good point,” Coran says, ignoring the weakness comment, “I will create a little schedule for rotating shifts.”

Shiro opened his mouth to object but Coran had already made up his mind.

“None of that number one, I will go first. The rest of you lot listen closely.”

He explains the medical data tablets functions, opens a new tab labeled ‘Day 1’, and turns to Shiro.

“Anything out of the ordinary?” Shiro lets out a gruff laugh so he clarifies, “I mean other than the quiznacking toxin.”

He shakes his head but Hunk picks up on the lack of confidence in the action.

“Shiro,” He says in a gentle but ‘dont bullshit me’ kind of tone.

“Yah,” Lance backs Hunk up, “no lies.”

“We need to know everything so we can keep you as comfortable as possible given the conditions,” Allura explains.

Coran nods, “even the smallest of things like...a nose itch!”

Keith can almost see Shiro fighting to stay afloat while his thoughts threaten to drown him. He gives Shiro a reassuring look. When did that happen? Shiro was always the one to reassure Keith. The realization hit Shiro like a truck and he mumbled, ”kinda hot.”

Lance had a joke on the tip of his tounge but instead smacks himself in the face.

How did he not notice the sheen of sweat coating his entire body, mixing with the blood, or the droplets forming beneath the white flop of hair. The rest of the team seemed to be having the same realization. Taking in all of Shiro for the first time.

At the prospect of finally being able to help Shiro, they spring into action. Keith and Pidge peel the sheets off his legs while Allura runs out the room with Hunk and Coran types into the tablet.

Allura and Hunk return with a container of light green stuff. It almost looks like…

“Is that ice?” Lance asks.

Hunk nods, “Yah, I started using it to cook. It’s like crazy cold; way colder than Earth ice. I touched it once and got frostbite almost immediately. Had to go to cryo.” He shivers at the memory, this stuff was no joke.

Hunk covers his hand with a towel and grabs a chunk. He hesitates, deciding whether he should wrap the ice completely, but after touching Shiros forehead and feeling the blazing heat radiating from him, he opts to apply the chunk directly.

They all hold their breath, expecting to hear a hiss of pain at the dangerously cold nature of the Altean ice. But Shiro closes his eyes and with a sigh of euphoric relief.

“Um...is it too cold?” Hunk asks dumbfounded.

“Mmmno t‘s perfect” he drawled, lost in the momentary relief. Pidge closes her dropped jaw and gives a questioning look to Keith who seems just as clueless. Keith tries not to think about how bad it is that Shiro is overheated enough to safely touch Altean ice. Instead he soaks up the smile on Shiro's lips, most likely the last he’ll see for a long time.

“Interesting…” Coran whispers and types some more.

By the time the color had returned to his face, Shiro was aware enough to take stock of his body.

“The pain is almost gone right now,” He shifts in the bed slightly as if testing his statement. When he doesn’t cringe in pain, Keith releases a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

Shiro turns his head to Pidge who’s standing at his feet.

“Pidge can you do something for me? You remember that drawer where you found the paper? There’s a makeshift cloth bag in there. Can you please bring it to me?”

Before he’s finished asking, Pidge is running out the door. She hopes desperatly that whatever’s in the cloth can make this all easier for Shiro.

She steps through the rougly sliced doorframe and takes a moment to notice how perfect everything is. Shiro’s room is too perfect. The sheets fitted meticulously around the mattres that has no sign of wear as it should. Every bed in the Castle of Lions is made of soft Altean foam that makes a mold of the user. Even her small feather light frame had had made a sizable cavern.

This meant that Shiro gets little to no sleep. She could picture him being drug to bed by Allura and the paladins just to get up and continue working on his tablet once alone.

With a heavy guilt filled sigh, she opens the drawer, again seeing a small box which she reaches towards but stops. Her hand hovering over the metal she’s so tempted- just one little peak.

Pidge shakes her head, discusted with herself, and grabs the bag. She runs out the room, distancing herself from temtation, and back to her suffering friend. No, friend is to light a word. Shiro had fought by their side, lead the team to victory, bled for them all, and saved each of them countless times...even now.

*****

Pidge places the pouch into Shiro’s flesh hand which grasps the fabric tightly. Pressing a button on the bed’s panel, he reclines into a sitting position, trying to hide a wince at the disrupted wounds.

Everyone in the room takes a step forward to help, but are waved off.

Shiro opens the bag carefully and drops a thin metal band on the mattress beside him.

“This...is a piece of Galra tech,” Shiro explains as Allura noticeably grimmices beside him, “they used it to...uh...restrain me,” He glances up through the white tuft.

“It disables my arm. But can only be opened with a Galra fingerprint.”

The room is still as they digest the information. Lance is the first to pipe up, “Wait a tick. I mean this is none of my buisness, but how’d you get it off? And why do you still have it?”

Keith had been wondering the same thing but was too shocked at how unsure Shiro sounded. Lack of confidence was a new thing coming from their leader.

“Ulaz, he-uh removed it when he helped me escape. I decided to keep it just incase.” No one pushed for more. Keith knew how little he trusted the arm. Hunk and Pidge had spent countless hours trying to learn its secrets without Shiro knowing.

Keith knew most Galra were sick, but this...torturing him so much that he had to keep a constant reminder of what he’d endured, for fear of destroying his loved ones? It was too much. How many panic attacks had been started by Shiro knowing that thing was in his bedroom?

He was pulled from his thoughts when he felt everyone staring at him. He noticed Shiro holding the metal cuff to him.

“Shiro...I can’t put that on you. They-what they did I just-” Shiro’s eyes beg him to not make this a big deal.

Keith takes the cuff, and his heart falls when they open at his touch. Shiro holds his wrist up and a disgusting noise rings out as the metals connect. He thanks Keith who tries to smile back but fails miserably.

Suddenly, Shiro’s eyelids slip and he slumps into the bed, metal arm dropping to the mattress with a heavy thud. The paladis eyes go wide with alarm and just as they open their mouths to scream, Coran juts his long arms out and hushes them all.

Pointing to the moniter, he mouths, “Just fallen asleep.”

Coran ushers everyone out into the hall, closing the door behind him. He then explains the shifts: Pidge, Hunk, Keith, Lance.

“Good luck everyone.”


	6. Chapter 6

Pidge and Hunk’s shifts go normally. If that’s what you call watching the person you care about the most-the person who’s always taken care of everyone else-endure so much suffering...and being useless to help.

Like clockwork new scars open, Shiro is in agony while records are taken and the blood is wiped away, then he collapses. His body unable to process the immense amounts of pain that it shuts down and he’s comatose till the next time. 

Cleaning the marred flesh was the wort part, Pidge thought. Knowing he was in so much pain and you were only adding to it. Hearing the strangled noises like a foreign language-a language of suffering- as the rough cloth was pushed around the puffed edges of the newly exposed openings. 

The first time she tried, the towel had barely touched the sensitive skin when he’d recoiled violently. She couldn’t bring herself to try again so she messaged Coran on her tablet asking if this was really necessary. 

Pidge had hoped Coran would say no (for the sake of her sanity) that it was a silly idea anyway. But of course, she was wrong.

Instead, he’d insisted that removing the toxin filled blood was crucial. If they let it get into the other lacerations, it would just create a cycle of toxin out-toxin in. And Shiro would die. 

So she’d done it (cursing the universe that had done this to her friend), and Hunk after. The yellow paladin had tried to cover his eyes with his bandana, unable to watch what he was doing to Shiro, but his hands were full trying to keep his writhing body still. 

Hunk had wished they could strap his arms and legs down, but shame washed over him almost immediately. How could he be so selfish? Yah it would be easier for the paladins… but Shiro wasn’t an animal. Hunk couldn’t imagine how much of the man's life had been spent restrained feeling as useless as Hunk did now. 

Pidge and Hunk were sitting in the otherwise empty lounge, Shiro's screams still ringing in their ears despite the complete silence that filled the room.

Hunk had come here to clear his mind after his shift only to find Pidge in her favorite spot on the couch, staring at nothing. He joined her, equally unable to sleep after what he’d just seen.

Pidge broke out of her trance and felt someone sitting with her.

She turned to the side in time to see a glistening tear slide down Hunks frozen face.

*****

Lance walks through the maze of hallways that lead to the medbay and takes a deep breath, bracing himself for the next two hours of emotional hell he was about to endure.

He had walked past the lounge on the way and seen Pidge and Hunk hugging each other with wet cheeks.

Lance didn’t like this. Didn’t like not being able to crack a joke and break the tension they were all feeling like he always did.

Always being the funny one is a great way to hide his emotions from everyone...and himself.

With a jumble of feelings he’d have to decipher later, Lance turns the corner and stops short.

Keith is waiting for him. Pacing back and forth, holding the bridge of his nose, Keith tries to dissipate his anxiety. But it only increases with every step.

“Uh oh, not good” Lance murmurs under his breath. Keith was almost as emotionally reserved as Shiro, the only difference being that Keith’s walls did crack occasionally. When they did, Lance had learned he’d hold his nose and pace. Keith had confided in him one night after a failed mission that the constant motion helped him focus.

Knowing Keith was probably lost in his own emotions, Lance clears his throat. The raven haired paladin looks up, completely off guard.

“How is he?” Lance whispers, almost too scared to ask.

Keith takes a shaky breath before answering. Almost like he didn’t trust his own voice.

“It’s getting worse with each hour. This last one was really bad. I-I had plug my ears with cloth strips because the screaming...it was so loud...”

Lance held his shaking friend and was startled when he didn't refuse the embrace. He knew it killed Keith most of all to see Shiro in this much pain.

“He still hasn’t recovered from the last episode,” Keith whispers against Lances chest. “His breathing hasn’t stabilized and he hasn’t passed out yet like he always does.”

Lance hears his soft mumble that maybe he shouldn’t leave Shiro just yet. One look at the deep circles under Keith’s eyes say enough.

“Keith, for once in his life Shiro needs us to be strong for him. And to do that, you need to take care of yourself until the next shift, when he’ll need you the most. It would break his heart to see you neglecting your wellbeing for him.”

Lance wasn’t used to being the one with comforting words, that was always Shiro's job. 

“You look just as bad me ya know,” Keith says with a hint of a smile.

He simply shrugs in a ‘what-can-I-say’ kind of way and pushes through the door.

*****

Lance shuts the door behind him, turns around to asses the situation, and freezes at the sight before him. 

Shiro’s labored breathing fills his ears. A sick sheen of sweat coating the exposed skin and dripping into the valley of each muscle. The torn flesh like a window revealing layers of angry red tissue. The deactivated Galra arm hangs off edge of the mattress, weighing down his shoulder. Several new lacerations decorate his thighs and legs, all of them aggravated as his ruined body is in constant motion on the bed, trying desperately to escape the pain.

Shiro opens his eyes and notices Lance. He immediately stills and gives a weak smile.

Damn, Lance thought, never thought the day would come when I’d use ‘weak’ to describe the black paladin. The thought disturbs Lance enough to crack his frozen bones into motion.

He hefts the Galra arm back onto the bed to lessen the strain Shiro must be feeling through his neck and shoulder. Shiro tries to suppress a groan at the disturbance, but after a moment lays his head against the pillow at the relief. Picking up a cloth and bowl that was soon filled with ice, Lance moves to the bedside.

Lance tries to think of something to say, something to break the tension and pull Shiro’s mind away from the trauma as he applies the ice gently. 

“Thanks...Lance” Shiro whispers, clearly relieved at the cold. Lance tries to ignore the harsh rasp to his voice that’s being ruined by all the screaming. 

“Ay don’t mention it,” Lance got an idea, “Hey Shiro?”

“Hm?”

“You hungry? I could have Hunk whip up something real quick. You haven’t eaten since like yesterday and Hunks itching to help. He could make your favorite soup or whatever you want!” Lance knew he was rambling but he was afraid if he stopped, the paper thin happy facade would fall, revealing just how worried he was for Shiro. Just how scared he was of seeing the strongest and most resilient being in the universe going through so much. If Shiro could survive so many horrors just to be taken out in the worst way imaginable...Stop it Lance! Shiro is not going to die! Right?

He honestly doesn’t know anymore; Shiro sure as hell looked like he was dying. And that’s what scares Lance the most.

Right now Shrio needs you to be strong, he thinks to himself, he needs you to be strong just like you told Keith.

“No thanks. I…” Shiro shifts his position and winces, “I’m not sure I could keep anything down.”

Lance didn’t miss how he spoke through clenched teeth, so he didn’t push.

“Ok that’s fine maybe later. How ‘bout some water?” Shiro accepted that but they came to a dilemma upon realizing the bed was reclined horizontally from the last episode (Coran said to keep him flat during one so the contaminated blood wouldn’t flow into the other wounds) and it was permanently locked in place so no one would forget. 

“Um...ok” Lance tilts his head back and forth like a confused puppy as he tries to think of a solution.

“Is it ok if I lift you up?” Shiro must have been really thirsty because he didn’t outright deny.

“Sure but I don’t think..” he glances down at his muscular figure, obviously larger than Lances by...a lot.

“Ohhh good point. Um let me call Hunk. That ok?” Shiro gave a slight nod, hating that he might be pulling Hunk away from something important. ‘Come help the supposed leader of Voltron to drink some water’ Shiro physically shook at the thought. Thankfully Lance didn’t notice the shiver, or the wince of pain that followed.

*****

It took Lance, Hunk, and a lot of comforting words to roughly hoist Shiro’s ruined body into an upright position. The whole ordeal was so much for him that after drinking half the bag and being set back down, he passed out.

Lance was worried at how long it had taken Shiro to catch his breath before drinking the water, but was thankful that he’d finally gone to sleep.

“Thanks Hunk,” Lance whispered to the yellow paladin. He was glad to see Hunk with dry cheeks and a look of accomplishment for having helped Shiro.

He gave a thumbs up and wide smile that looked genuine, but Lance had seen enough of the gentle giants expressions to notice it didn’t reach his brown eyes. Not even a small victory could erase the gravity of the situation. The whole team was just as worried as Keith.

Lance melted into the chair Keith must have pulled next to Shiro’s feet. He watched the staggered rise and fall of his friends chest. It was hard to look at; the cuts and gashes littering his arms, chest, and legs. But, he forced himself to take it all in. Lance just couldn’t shake the feeling that this was his fault. He shakes his head, reminding himself of who the man is in front of him. 

Takashi Shirogane would’ve run out into that toxic planet a million times if it meant saving a life. 

He looked at the remaining scars. So many left to go. There were three that particularly sent a shiver up Lance’s spine; a large puncture that must hit bone and a rough slash that wrapped around his left side as if hugging his ribs. But the one that disturbed him the most was the scar along his nose. To reach from eye to eye, it must be extremely deep at the bridge of Shiro’s nose.

During a bonding activity a few weeks back where the team had allowed each other to see their worst nightmares (Allura felt that by sharing their fears, they would be closer and could help one another get over them). Shiro had kept his mind tight, but one memory seeped out, revealing how terrified he was of hurting his team...and having to relive his most identifying mark.

*****

Lance shot up from his seat when the screaming started, ripping through the silence of the room. Both the flesh of the puncture and rib scars were splitting open with a sound Lance was sure would haunt him for eternity. Lance runs beside Shiro, unsure what to do as scarlet begins to flow like syrup from a tap. Shiro reaches out with his flesh hand and grasps Lances arm tightly as he screams.

Too tight.

“Shiro? Please let go,” alarms go off in Lance’s brain, “Shiro please! I know it hurts but please man you gotta let go!” But he’s to lost in his own pain to hear Lance’s straind and desperate plea as he tries to pry the screaming arm loose.

The bone gives out and Lance is sure he can feel it shattering. His screams threaten to match Shiro’s but he’s somehow able to slam the red button on the bed and yell into it for help using his free hand. He hopes with every ounce of his being that the others can hear his cry for help over Shiro’s screams as the button projects his message throughout the castle. 

Lance fights the darkness spotting his vision as the paladins burst in, flanked by Allura and Coran.

Keith is at Shiro’s side impossibly fast, trying to bring him back, until they all notice Lance swaying and his swollen arm under Shiro’s hold.

They try unsuccessfully to loosen his iron grip.

“Knock him out! Now!” Keith yells.

“No! The toxin’ll take longer…”Lance slurred, but he was in a losing battle against the darkness threatening to pull him under. Seeing this, Allura grabs a syringe from the drawer and impales Shiro’s neck. He chokes on a scream before collapsing with a heavy thud.

****

The Alteans rush Lance to cryo, a trip he doesn’t remember. 

After cleaning Shiro’s wounds in hurried silence and confirming he’d be out for a while, the other paladins join them.

Pidge stands among them and looks up at Lance suspended in the chamber. They stay like that, all together yet feeling so alone until Lance falls out.

Coran regretfully informs Lance that he’ll need one more go in the cryo pod to fix the completely shattered bones. Coran fits him with a sling and Allura gives him an injection of painkillers that dull the pain to a manageable throb. Lance fells overwhelmingly guilty that he gets painkiller while Shiro suffers.

Allura sees the look in the blue paladins eyes, “We can’t put anything in Shiro’s system, it will delay the process. The amount of painkillers it would take to make the slightest difference would kill him.”

*****

They all return to the medbay in time to see Shiro stirring.

“Shiro you’re awake?” Keith says unable to hid his surprise that the injection hadn’t kept him out longer. He looks to Coran who seems just as surprised. 

Shiro nods, eyes still foggy from the drug.

“What happen…” Shiro starts to ask, but he’s becoming more aware of his body and the pain is making itself known once again. He tries to focus on something else. Looking at his worried friends he notices Lance hiding behind the others. Being uncharacteristically quiet. Suspiciously quiet. 

“Lance? What's wrong?” Lance is tempted to play it off, point out that Shiro of all people shouldn’t be worrying about anyone in his state. But the lingering guilt forces him to step forward.

The drug induced haze clears from Shiro’s mind as his eyes go wide, taking in the extensive wrapping on Lance’s arm. Confused he looks frantically around the room for an explanation.

“Um...Shiro it wasn’t your fault, you were having an episo-”

Exhaustion was setting in, the ever persistent darkness trying to devour Shiro, but at those words he shakes the feeling away. 

“I did that to him?” His mind races, screaming out that he’s a failure, a sorry excuse for a leader, a disgrace to the Black Lion, unworthy to be the leader of Voltron. The Galra were right, Haggar was right. He really was a-

“Anything to report?” Coran asks picking up the tablet, trying to distract Shiro’s mind. 

He nods.

“I’m a monster,” Shiro rasps and lets the starving darkness feast.


	7. Chapter 7

Lance couldn’t sleep. Not without images flashing across his closed lids like a horror film. Besides, the indented Altean mattress he was sprawled on didn’t provide the calming embrace like usual.

Flipping on his back defiantly, Lance stares at the ceiling trying to stay awake. _Come on Lance you told Keith to take care of himself. Don’t be such a_  
 _hypocrite._ His sleepy conscious had a point. His determination falters and his lids thank him as they close. _Just for a second._ Muscles tense with anxiety and anticipation, he waits. When nothing happens Lance relaxes, letting his body melt into the heavenly foam.

The memories start but they’re surprisingly peaceful. He hears waves crashing along a shore of warm sand; seagulls cawing as they fly overhead on the cool summer breeze that carries the euphoric scent of saltwater and fresh mangos. He strolls along the wet sand, firm and comforting. Lets the water rush over and off the tan skin. He sees something in the dry sand up ahead and changes course, smiling at the dry grains clinging to his wet feet. He gets to the object and sees now that it’s a conch shell. Big and beautiful with a surface so shiny it reflects the sun's rays.

Bending down, he puts a hand around it and frees the shell from the sand. He turns it in his palm and squints his eyes in preparation for the reflection, but what he sees is… awful. The smooth shell was marred with holes and scrapes, black algae coating the edges. Disappointed at what could have been an amazing find he bent to return it to the sand.

His Abuela’s voice in his head saying, “It is alright my little aventurero, this one was not so lucky. It had to travel very far to get to this beach; across oceans and past sharks. I am sure it is happy to have seen your smile, mi amor.”

With one hand still on the shell, Lance positions the conch how he’d found it, but scrunches his eyebrows at the warm slickness his palm now felt. Confused he pulls the hand away. With wide eyes he jumps up and falls on his back in the sand.

Lance raises his shaking hand slowly taking in the blood coated palm. The scarlet dripps thickly into the thirsty sand. He shuts his eyes painfully tight, shakes his head trying to escape the dream, and freezes. It’s quiet. Too quiet. He can’t hear the caws and waves or feel the breeze. The soft sand beneath him doesn’t feel so soft anymore. It’s cold and solid. Almost too scared to look, Lance peels his eyes open cautiously and looks up, pupils adjusting to the dull light provided by a single flickering bulb. Casting a stuttering yellow glow around the room-four pristine walls of dark grey metal- and to the floor. Lances heart almost bursts from terror.

There’s a body. It’s back facing him. Laying limp in a pool of blood that had spread so large that Lance was sitting in it.

In a horrified trance he crawls toward it, curiosity drawing him in and drowning out the fact he was slipping on hands and knees to reach it. Lance’s dripping hands hover over the form. He shakes his head and pulls. It falls flat with a sickening thud.

Lance gags at the state of the body-it must be a male given the shear size-and tries to identify him through the parted skin and raised edges of his face. Using his shirt to wipe away all the red he gasps, dropping the drenched fabric as recognition hits him like a spaceship.

The dead paladin doesn’t move but somehow his voice calls out-strangled and hoarse.

“I’m a monster”

                   __________

Lance shoots up wildly, sweat dripping into his eyes, heart pumping out of his chest, lungs unable to get enough air. He can’t shake the guilt flowing through his untainted blood.

There were too many emotions fighting for his attention. If Lance was being honest, that’s why he always stayed around people, always told jokes and talked constantly; being alone with just his thoughts terrified him.

Unable to mentally force the feelings back into his subconscious, and unable to stay in the dark room, he crawls out of the mattress with a frustrated grumble and heads for the training room still catching his breath.

                  ____________

Training helps. When he’s focusing on his form and technique, refining his shooting and punching skills, and dodging the gladiators blows, he can’t think of anything else. His mind becomes clear.

Punch. Dodge. Roll. Aim. Fire.

Why can’t life always be like this? In a constant state of trying to survive, nonstop action where emotions couldn’t find him? Sounds like heaven to me. Lance stops mid-swing realizing he’d just described Shiro's life. The nightmare flashes before him.

The split second hesitation cost him a hard blow to his arm, sending him flying. Thank goodness he’d finished the second cryo treatment or else his partially healed arm would’ve been shattered again. Quickly he collects himself and dodges another attack. But he’s too slow, memories catching up to him, and misses a metal hand to the skull by centimeters. Metal hand. Like Shiro’s.

He shakes his head violently, trying to get back in the zone. But it’s too late the facade is compromised. He yells out the kill command to stop the gladiator and slumps to the floor breathing hard and aching all over. He tries to ignore the familiar position of the fallen gladiator.

               _____________

Hunk, Pidge, and Keith find the blue paladin in the training room breathing hard on the floor and staring at a deactivated gladiator. Pidge doesn’t think she’s ever seen the sharpshooter so still.

Hunk walks in slowly, not wanting to startle Lance who was engrossed in the robot. Seeing the sweat dripping from his temple, Hunk retrieves a water from the wall cooler.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” Hunk says and holds out the water.

“We’re gonna go see Shiro. Wanna come?” Pidge asks.

Lance looks up at Hunks outstretched hand and realizes there's a water pouch in it. He takes it and looks at the others in a daze. Almost like he was waking up from a dream. He wipes the exhaustion from his face and nods, rising.

Lance stops to drink and notices Keith in the doorframe. _God he looks awful._   
The red paladin leans heavily on the door. Black strands more untamed than usual and falling over his face. Lance searches for his eyes through the void and realizes after a second he’s looking at them. The orbs and dark circles beneath them were so dark they’d blended into Keith's raven hair.

He doesn’t speak; just turns and heads to the medbay. Pidge sighs, looks at each of the boys with concern, and follows.

As they walk in silence Lance studies Keith from his spot at the back of the group. He recognizes the way Keith moves. He’s seen it only once before and although he was a child, he’d never forget. Keith was a mirror image of Lance’s dad after Abuela’s funeral.

It was the walk of someone who had lost everything. Papa had never been the same after his mother's death. On the outside you’d barely notice. He was the same kind jokester as before. But Lance, the eternal observer, didn’t miss the way his signature smiles never quite reached his blue eyes or how they didn’t twinkle anymore when his children brought him a pretty shell from the beach. A piece of his soul had died that day, a piece he never got back. Lance had been too young to understand then, but now…

Lance had never seen his friend look so lost.

                _______________

“No.” Shiro rasps defiantly to the Altean sitting next to him as the others file into the room. They look to Coran confused, Shiro has never so bluntly refused help before.

Coran can almost read the paladins thoughts by the looks on their faces but he directs his attention to Shiro who’s currently staring at the ceiling with his head on the pillows. His flesh arm is limply wrapped around his chest, too weak to clutch himself protectively anymore. Too weak to trick himself into thinking he could subdue the pain.

“Shiro, I know this is not something you like to discuss but I need to know about the scar on your nose.”

Hunk feels Keith tense beside him. Shiro has never talked about that scar and none of them ever push. It was the unspoken rule.

“I don’t think you’ll be up to taking much when-if it opens...” Pidge can tell Coran is trying hard to lessen the blow with his bubbly and analytical tone. But she knows it won’t work on Shiro. You can’t turn salt into sugar.

This time Shiro tensed. The contracting muscles causing more blood to flow from the deep lines across his chest that could only be from restraints.

Hunk tried not to imagine Shiro strapped to a table being experimented on and tortured, thrashing against the restraints only to injure himself further.

“No,” Shiro says through clenched teeth.

“Shiro you promised you’d coopera-” Lance started.

“Not. That. One.” he says still locked in on the ceiling, each word clipped and filled with venom. A tone he only uses when talking to the enemy. Pidge took a physical step back. Hunk never thought he’d be on the receiving end of it. He couldn’t take offense though...not after all Shiro has been going through. Pain can transform the kindest souls to demons. He thought of his warm-hearted Uncle who had turned a sour, bitter man after years of chronic back pain from working in the coal mines.

Keith swallows his surprise and notices Shiro’s eyes have a far off look. Like he’s being forced to find something that he knows will be harmful. It’s the look he gets when he’s about to have a ptsd attack.

“Number one I would not keep asking if it wasn’t importa-”

“Stop Coran!” Keith dashes in front of the Altean,“Shiro?” He reaches out gently trying to bring him back.

It’s too late. The memory’s burned like a brand in Shiro's mind...

_Resist_

_Don’t kill_

_Black shell covers his face_

_Can’t breathe_

_Resist_

_Don’t kill_

_Hurts_

_Too tight_

_Resist_

_Too tight_

_Too tight_

_Too tight_

_Obey_


	8. Chapter 8

_Oh my gosh what happened to him? What’d you do?_

 

_I was just trying to get some helpful information._

 

_Why’d he stop moving?!_

 

_I think the stress knocked him out._

 

_You shouldn't have asked him about the scar._

 

_I was simply trying to hel-_

 

_Yah you did a fine job of that mr medical expert._

 

_Paladin that is quite enough you do not speak to him like that._

 

_Oh I’m sorry ‘princess’ I shouldn’t have my own opinion._

 

_You know that’s not what I meant._

 

_Yah well it sure sounds like it. You two obviously don’t know everything._

 

_I’ve never said that before but you are not perfect either!_

 

_Hey! Calm down we’re all under a lot of stress right now._

 

_You know whos in a lot of stress? SHIRO. Ya know the guy you just freaking triggered!_

 

The sounds were muffled by the haze Shiro was trying to break through. Too tired and weak, he can’t decipher the complicated emotions clouding the room especially with his eyes still closed. Not wanting to pull them out of their important discussion but needing desperately to talk, he stays still to conserve energy.

 

The only thing Shiro hated more than the pain was passing out. The galra...this toxin... apparently they didn’t control his life enough. They had a grasp on his memories, his ptsd, his freaking arm, his blood...but to steal the right to decide when he was (or more likely wasn’t) going to sleep made his tainted blood boil.

 

Waking up and not knowing where he was sucked, but the worst part of being forced in and out of consciousness was that whenever he woke up, there was always a few moments when he was pain free. The short period of time when his overworked pain receptors hadn’t connected to his brain yet. But then the pain would come. It always did. Without warning or incremental grace-but like a savage monster ripping through a veil to slaughter the euphoria. And each time was more devastating than the last. The pain free moments shorter and the pain surge more intense. Anxiety courses through his veins in anticipation while he focuses on scraping together enough energy to speak. Shiro isn’t sure if his friends are even here with him. The anxiety and efforts to speak making it hard to search for familiarity in the sounds that surround him.

 

On the other side of the room Pidge is certain that Keith and Lance are going to start swinging at the Altean's pretty soon. She’s so surprised to see them both so riled up-she can’t recall either of them ever speak with such emotion-but all things considered, she understands. And the two most hot headed and high strung creatures in the galaxy were at the end of their lines. Pidge figures neither of them have been in such prolonged monumental stress. Noticing Keith’s bulging neck she realizes that they’re just kids and kids aren’t made for this kind of thing. She almost laughs at the irony that some teenagers have gone through so much-feels the hysteria rising in her chest. Must be her way of dealing with the neverending emotional trauma...just go insane. _Figures_ ,she thinks. Whenever she couldn’t solve a problem or fix something, the yellow paladin would get a little...intense. Always needing to be of help was a vital part of her being- and it was starving.

 

After a few deep breaths, Allura was able to stop arguing with the boys. What a fool she must be; getting into an argument with her paladins who were hurting. Yelling at them even. What kind of princess was she being in this state? Unwashed hair strewn about-cheeks red from frustration. What kind of princess would feeding their tortured souls? Shiro would be disappointed. Allura stilled, feeling the quintessence coursing through her, listening to its ethereal voice. Normally it would calm her to hear the calming magic. Not now...there was no voice. She could hear nothing.

 

The Castle, as of late, was a breeding ground for worry and fear...it is a wonder the anger had not manifested sooner. It was a testament to how caring they truly were.

 

So instead of continuing to yell back or allowing Coran to do something he’d regret later, she walked towards them and pulled her paladins close. Allura does not let go until she can hear their breaths even out and their hearts return to their normal worry stricken rhythms.

 

From under the Alteans constricting embrace, Keith looks over at Shiro. Taking him all in for the first time since his last shift. The blood loss was taking its toll. Without the warmness coursing through Shiro’s veins, weak shivers ran along his deprived body. His skin now paler than the snowy white tuft of hair and coated with the ever present sheen of sickly dew despite the internal chill. Keith’s eyes close against his will-his own body refusing to see anymore-and he pulls away.

 

_I’m sorry...I just...I just need to be alone for a minute._

 

The realization that the familiar voice was going to leave forced Shiro completely awake and he tries to reach  out with his own.

 

“Pl-ple-please...” he struggles past the inflamed vocal cords, raw from the screams.

 

The chatter stops as everyone in the room turns towards the plea.

 

He needs them to listen. To understand the gravity of what he needs to ask. But the pain will return soon and the anxiety is clawing through him. Using the last sliver of his conscious mind, he gets an idea. There’s one thing he’d never say.

 

“Help...me.”

 

Shiro sinks back into the pillows, breathing hard, the effort catching up to him.

Time stands still. None of them could recall ever hearing those words come from their leaders mouth. Even throughout this whole horrific ordeal, Shiro hasn’t asked for help or verbally mentioned his discomfort anymore than he had control of.

 

Keith felt a tug in his heart that caused his feet to move. Inching forward he crouches beside Shiro whose eyes are shut. If he focused on just the closed lids-ignoring the scar that was a blunt reminder of what was to come and ignoring the gore that was Shiro’s body-Keith could create an illusion that his friend was just sleeping.

 

But the universe is unkind. It’s unfair to the inhabitants struggling to survive. It hunts the good hearted and destroys the strong slowly.

 

“Sure, what do you need?” Keith tried to keep his voice even. Pretend the words Shiro uttered didn’t crush his soul. He could feel the others holding their breaths behind him.

 

Shrio grunts as he turns his head towards the sound of Keiths voice. The red paladin jumps to a stand and vaguely hears gasps from behind him. Their leade-Shiro’s face is filled with agony and...that’s not a look Keith has ever seen on his best friends face. Not a look he thought he’d ever see on Shiro’s features. Pure terror.

 

“End th-this…end...you ha-have to...end...me.”

* * *

 

Hunk appears at Shiro’s side and tries to give a reassuring smile, “It’s almost over...it’s gotta be.”

  
“Yah,” Lance pipes up, “just hold on a little longer. I can’t imagine what you’re going through but...you’re doing great.”

 

Damn that sounded way less corny in Lance’s head. He tries to cover it with a smile but falters when he notices Shiro clenching his teeth so hard Lance was scared they might break.

 

_Shiro!_

 

_Shiro, what’s wrong?_

 

Someone’s asking questions but receptors are back online and Shiro is in so much pain he can’t move. His eyes squeeze shut in response. Baring his teeth, his lips pull back as his face grows taut with the exertion of remaining quiet. Cold...so cold. His throat constricts as he chokes on the screams while simultaneously taking in ragged breaths. Tears rush down his face mixing with the sweat and blood.

 

“Please…ju-just let...let me die.”

 

The broken words echo as he’s pulled back under. Coran draws Allura in close. Hunk and Lance stand still letting the silent tears cascade down their necks, mirroring the black paladin. Pidge wishes desperately that she could hug Shiro but knows it would only hurt him more. So instead, she curses the universe for the thousandth time since they entered this hell.

 

“I got next shift,” Keith whispers to no one in particular, voice almost as hoarse as Shiro's. Lance touches Keith’s shoulder in silent support on his way out with the others.

* * *

 

 

Shiro wakes to the euphoric peace. He relishes in the moment of rare bliss. A cold object is being gently massaged over the tender skin of his chest that feels so good he might fall back asleep. The motion stops and he feels something wet dripping down his face and closed mouth. The voice in his head whispers that it’s probably water; the thought of cool liquid alleviate his dry and ravaged throat is enough to instinctually part his lips. The fluid touches his tongue as Shiro invites it in. Finally some relie-

 

_Wait...Why’s it warm? And thick?_

 

_Too thick_

 

_Can’t breathe_

 

_Can’t…_

 

Everything rips into him at once and he can feel...everything. The pain is unboundless as skin diverges and he can feel the individual tissue cells being torn apart. Spiraling into a blind panic of pain, fear, and adrenaline Shiro’s eyes fly open wildly searching for something-someone-anything to ease his terror.

 

But no one’s there. He’s alone.

* * *

 

 

Keith dropped the ice he was holding when the blood began to flow. Why hadn’t Shiro woken up screaming? Keith hated that that was normal but it was the way things went. It was the constant that kept his last ounce of sanity in check. Wound opens, shiro wakes up, he calms down eventually, gets cleaned, collapses. Over and over again that always stayed the same. But he wasn’t awake and Keith wasn’t shoving cloth in his ears. He wasn’t feeling like he was gonna die or pass out from seeing his best-his Shiro endure it all again.

 

Worry growing with each passing second he goes to press the button to call the others. But it’s broken; the metal crushed and shattered from when Shiro had grabbed for something to hold during the ptsd attack. Too bad it was with the galra arm.

 

Keit stands turned towards the door utterly torn; run for help incase somethings really wrong...or stay and hope nothing is. _Oh come on Keith of corse somethings wrong. When does anything ever go right for Shiro?_ He chides himself then sets off in a sprint yelling for the others.

* * *

 

 

Through the chaos Shiro vaguely senses someone touching him but in the time he was alone, his eyes had closed and refused to open. The lights in the room had only worsened the sensory overload.

 

_Why…_

 

_Why do I hurt so much?_

 

_Too much_

 

_Can’t take this anymore_

 

_No more_

 

_Pleasenomorepleasepleasepleaseplease_

 

There’s a noise he doesn’t recognize. Loud and animalistic that’s radiating throughout the room. Whatever it is it’s so loud Shiro fights to cover his ears amidst the intense pain radiating from his face.

* * *

 

 

Keith runs back into the medbay flanked by Allura, Coran, Hunk, and Pidge. He runs to Shiro’s side and sets a hand on a rare unmarked patch of skin. Barely a muscle twitch in response to the touch.

 

“See?” He said to Coran. Keith already caught them up while they’d collectively tore through the halls.

 

“Hm very interesting,” Coran twists his mustache, “have you recorded it in th-”

 

Coran is cut off by a sound that scares them all half to Earth. Keith runs to the cabinet and retrieves cloth strips, throwing two to each. Balling up his own, the red paladin shoves them in his almost bleeding ears and the others do the same. Pidge is brought to tears at the noise erupting from the black paladin. Raw against his strained throat, the endless screams louder than ever before ripping through him.

* * *

 

Numb to the real world, all he senses is pain. He can no longer feel the pillow supporting him, the mattress beneath him; could no longer smell the air’s artificial aura the castle always had; no longer taste the blood in his mouth; no longer see his families worried eyes or feel their urgent touches. He is numb to the world. All except for the inescapable, excruciating pain. So familiar it was like a toxic friendship he couldn’t get out of.

 

_Why am I fighting so hard?_

 

_Why have I for so long?_

 

He can’t remember. And he doesn’t care. Shiro was done fighting.

* * *

 

They all stood there, cloth filled ears, completely useless to help Shiro. It was eating Pidge alive. Shiro screams until suddenly he stops. She hadn’t realized how loud the shrieks had been. But in the quiet, Shiro’s body begins to spasm violently. Shaking the bed and just as he’s about to fall off, despite the paladins’ attempts to keep him on, Shiro collapses, arms hanging from the bed. His eyes roll back dangerously.

 

All around them monitors blare signaling Shiro’s downward spiral to flatlining.

“What’s happening?!!”

 

“His body is shutting down!”

 

“I do not think it can process the pain he is in any longer. His heart is too overworked from the blood loss and stress!”

 

“Don’t you dare leave me Shiro. DON’T YOU DARE!”

  



	9. Chapter 9

 

Everything moves in slow motion.

Time and space seemingly bend as Hunk becomes acutely aware of his surroundings.

Coran’s mouth opening centimeters at a time to give orders while Allura, Pidge, and Lance run through syrup to obey-paladin boots descending slowly.

Strands of the princesses hair suspend mid air before falling gracefully back into place. Almost like clouds in the sky if not for the pulsating red lights illuminating the room casting an eerie shadow through the ever changing sea of white.

And over everything-his own heartbeat pounding against bone so hard his vision shakes in tempo. Something catches his eyes by the bed. Inch by inch Hunk watches as Keith’s knees descend to collide with the hard ground; head thrown back to the ceiling, eyes shut tightly, pointed teeth bared yet opened wide in a silent scream. The action shakes Hunk to the core and he’s violently sucked back into reality.

Coran’s commands rushing out from under his mustache fast and urgent as he scurries to prepare a tray of sharp objects that the others have brought to him. Lance’s heaving chest nearing hyperventilation while Pidge wrings her hands to the point of bruising and tears leak through the fissures of Allura’s impenetrable calm composure. And Keith...on his knees grabbing at Shiro.

An orphan covered in the blood of his guardian angel.

But no tears stain the red paladins cheeks-Hunk doubted they ever would-but the scream that had ripped through him was sure to be heard across the universe.

Pidge falters in her attempt to help Coran. Hunk was frozen staring at Keith who was in turn staring at Shiro breathing raggedly from the horrendous scream.

But the hands that reached out looked off; and the eyes that looked on so desperately...were a bright glowing yellow. She couldn’t help but be captivated and although her world was crumbling beneath her, the sight was beautiful in a broken kind of way.

* * *

With Pidge stilled and the others busy, no one was watching the black paladin. Despite Keith being right next to Shiro, his head was now bowed as the hope expelled itself from his crouched form; meaning Hunk was the only one to notice-

“Wait!” He yells causing Coran to drop the tray he’d been holding. “Look!”

Keith lifts his gaze and jumps up in surprise. The red emergency beams suddenly stop, the usual soft blue hue filling the room once again in time to see Shiro’s skin mending bit by bit. If not for all they’d endured recently, Pidge was sure the sight of pale tissue weaving together would’ve elicited some sort of response from her stomach. But the receding flesh squeezing out the last drops of poisoned blood had no effect; just a relieved smile.

Allura watched in amazement as the color seemed to return to the paladins cheeks and the sheen of sweat evaporated.

The princess released a long breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Looking over at the others she saw similar reactions. Lance’s shoulders lifted, finally freed from the weight that had been slowly building since this whole thing started.

The bed’s prisoner abruptly jolts up, shaking arms trying to support but failing in their weakened state. After a few breaths-each more stable than the last-he tries again.

Keith can’t help but smile as Shiro sits up for the first time in days. After swinging his legs slowly off the side of the bed he looks around the room.

Battle-worn faces stare back. But through the hardened edges and worried creases, he can see his family’s twinkling eyes.

“How’re you feeling?” Keith asks in a whisper not wanting to scare off the happiness they were all feeling that was so rare nowadays.

With another solid breath Shiro closes his eyes and takes stock of his body. He was tired, hungry, and sore. But something was missing. A familiar feeling was gone. He laughed realizing what it was- the muscles in his face confused at the smile he was producing.

“Shiro?”

“The pain’s gone.” His ear to ear smile was contagious and they all run in for hugs. They stay like that for a long time and the thoughts of ocean breezes and bloody seashells disappear from Lance.

“It’s good to be back but...can I get out of this freaking bed?” They all erupt into laughter as Hunk and Keith get on either side. With hovering hands at the ready, Shiro takes another breath and cautiously steps down.

The strain in his legs feels good and he relishes the sensation of being in control of his own body again. He stretches out his sore limbs and back then takes a step forward. But like all things, his legs betray him and he staggers.

But Hunk and Keith are right there to help. Their ghosting hands latching on to support the larger paladin.

Once stabilized he stares at the ground assessing himself again. Something else seems off. A familiar feeling seeming to bloom inside but in his weakened state he can’t put a name to it.

All of a sudden, Shiro gasps and pushes away from his friends.

“I-I…” his eyes go wide as he stumbles to the wall and slides down, shaking and mumbling hoarsely. “I killed them...my fau-it’s...it’s my fault...dead...should've…”

“Shiro? What’s-”

From the floor, Shiro looks up with wild eyes but Pidge gets the impression he isn’t seeing them. Her feet move backward without her knowledge.

“I should’ve…too weak...so much blood…” Shiro raises his hands to his face and gags. The others watch in bewilderment as their ‘cured’ leader rises quickly and runs to the sink, furiously rubbing at his hands, not caring one was metal.

“Shiro?” Lance appears beside the sink and watches Shiro violently scrubbing with incoherent words flowing out his trembling mouth.  
“Um guys? Why’s he washing his hands like that?” Shiro stops and swivels to Lance and grasps the laters shoulders, begging for him to understand.

“Won’t go away...I-I didn’t mean to...didn’t want to…” Lance is utterly freaked out, he’s never seen Shiro like this before, never been witness to one of his full attacks.

The larger paladin releases his tight grip on Lance and returns to the sink. Still talking to himself and muttering-

“Are those names?” Hunk questions.

“Why’s he washing his hands so much?” Lance repeats, too shaken to say anything else.

Pidge whispers mostly to herself, “He’s trying to clean the blood off.”

The two boys’ eyes go wide, “What blood??”

“From the people he’s killed?”

“Pidge is right,” Keith speaks up from beside Allura, “His ptsd is flaring and we need to calm him down before he hurts himself.”

“How do we do that?”

“Not sure. He never lets anyone see him like this. I’ve only seen a flare up twice and I couldn’t bring him back.” Keith tries to keep his voice even. He runs a hand through his hair to hide the fact it’s shaking. Now’s not the time to freak out.

Allura is shocked, she knew Shiro had a troubling past, knew he sometimes fought with the memories; but she had no clue it was this bad. Shame hit her like a Galra cruiser. How often had Shiro dealt with this alone?

Allura is ripped from her thoughts as Shiro's legs give out and he crashes to the floor in a shaking heap.

Slowly, Keith approaches him. “Shiro? It’s ok. You’re safe. You’re in the castle of lions.”  
Shiro blinks a few times and sits up.

“You here with me Shiro?”

“...Keith?” Voice full of uncertainty as he presses his left hand beneath the white tuft of hair.

“Yah...yah I’m here...I’m ok.” A collective sigh of relief fills the room. But Keith looks deep into the eyes of his best friend.

“No you’re not.”

Shiro didn’t reject the comment which surprises Hunk. This all so unlike the Shiro he knows that the yellow paladin wondered how well he really did know Shiro. Hunk thought he was friends with Shiro...family even. But as he took in the sight of his...family...staring at the cold metal wall, he realizes his fear for Shiro had turned into fear of Shiro. Simply because he didn’t understand what was happening. Hunk shakes the thoughts from his head as Pidge clears her throat.

“Why don’t you guys take Shiro to get some food. I’m sure he’s starving; his nutrition levels on the medtablet are reading dangerously low.”

They look to their leader who nods languidly. Coran grabs a wheelchair looking contraption and Allura helps Shiro sit down.

As they file out of the room, Pidge whispers, “Wait, Keith? Coran?”

The two stop and turn to her, the sound of Hunk and Lances exuberant-most definitely one sided-conversation with Shiro fading down the hall.

“I think I can figure out what Shiro was seeing if I could use your help?”

Upon her request, Coran gets the rooms video log on the tablet and rewinds it to just minutes before. As it plays Pidge tries to stay detached from what she was seeing. Instead of letting emotions freeze her neurons, she puts her mind into analytic mode and scribbled down some notes.

It was a skill her dad had taught her when she got frustrated too easily with her complicated projects as a child. Pidge knew Keith had gotten a similar lesson-but with suffering replacing the love and affection she’d been given-as she could feel Keith’s stillness beside her.

After playing the clip a few more times, Pidge thanked Coran and presented her findings. The names Shiro had been so frantically speaking of.

“Do you know who these names are attached to?” Coran asks.

“Not a clue. But I have an idea, come with me.” They follow Pidge to her bedroom that’s cluttered with machine parts and circuit wires. She retrieves a green blanket from beneath her bed and fishes out a tablet from within its folds.

“You know how everytime a mission lands on a Galra ship I harvest as much intel as possible while downloading viruses? Well this...” she pushes up her glasses mustering enough courage to continue, “this contains some of that information. To ensure we never lost the intelligence we fought so hard for, I put the data on seperate devices. This is one of four containing surveillance footage. But more specifically...footage of the ship Shiro was kept on.”

Pidge pauses to let that sink in and sees two sets of shocked eyes staring back.

“Yah...I haven’t looked at them. Never was planning to. But I think it could hold the answer to who he was talking about-especially this one.”

She pointed to the scrawled out letters spelling ‘ Zaronoth’ a name that Shiro had repeated more than the rest. Keith stayed silent as ever but gives a slight nod.

“If we know who it is, insight to what he’s seeing and be able to help him through the attacks.” Coran nods in agreement and gestures for her proceed.

Pidge navigates the Arena files organized by fighter and selects ‘Champion’ with a chill running the length of her spine.

Within the file are seperate videos, each with a title, each title a name. The first three are the names on her list. The first reading Zaronth.

Not believing her luck at finding the names so soon, she clicks on the first. But what they see next takes the air from her lungs.

The Arena is much bigger than Keith had imagined. Fashioned like a grey colosseum with blood soaked dirt smothering the ground. Galra soldiers spilling out of their seats due to the sheer amount of raging beasts too much for the space permitted. A savage mix of growling and cheering erupting from between their pointed teeth as someone enters the killing ground.

He moves like he’s familiar with the environment; doesn’t slow at the terrifying sounds. Not until he’s at the center of the ring. He squares his shoulders and steels himself for a fight.

The action instantly connects the dots. He was watching Shiro prepare to defend his life. As the future black paladin pivoted, something caught the light. His prosthetic arm.

From beneath the shredded rags of his shirt, Keith could see that although marred more than the usual person, his flesh was not yet a tapestry of scars as it was today. He did notice the burns that adorned the back of Shiro’s neck.

Those were marks he’d seen before on slaves Voltron had saved from Galra confines: cattle prod. Rage filled Keith's veins but this was far from over.

Another figure emerged, drug in by two Galra handlers, and thrown to the center. A voice boomed over the crowd.

“Our champion has defeated every creature put against him! But how will our beast fare against something a little less threatening?”

The crowd erupted, chants growing louder and louder. But Shiro stares at the small form still on the ground trembling and takes a step back, confused. The frail body rises, easily half his opponents size, and shows he has no weapons.

Shiro takes another step back and makes no moves to fight his challenger.

The same two handlers march in and proceed to simultaneously whip and electrocute him with a cattle prod until Shiro is reduced to a convulsing heap which they then drag out of the Arena by his ankles.

The three remain silent as Pidge clicks the next labeled ‘Letarga’ and watch the same events unfold.

The weak defenseless slave thrown to Shiro like an injured sheep given to a wolf. Only this wolf didn’t act towards the sheep. Instead, he was again beat into the ground.

His face met the ground more quickly due to the short time since the last. And he was again drug through the dirt back to his cell.

Keith knew what was coming next as Pidge clicked into the third video. Shiro’s voice echoing in his ears, reminding Keith of how he’d been forced to watch as the handlers skinned the first slave he’d refused to fight.

This time when the sheep was ready. It rose and although it’s Balmerian legs shook, no cry of fear escaped its lips. The sheep stood as the wolf attacked.

Shiro did in fact slaughter them all. Keith hadn’t believed him before. Hadn’t been able to wrap his mind around the idea.

But here it all was.

There were hundreds more video files. Hundreds more names. Hundreds more kills.

The trio is torn from the bloodshed when the alarms start blaring.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've increased the story from 12 chapters to 14 because I got some ideas :)  
> The next chapter will be a little different so please read the notes. It should be out within one or two weeks.
> 
> Thank you all so much for the comments and kudos <3   
> Hope you enjoy!

The alarms sound off just as Lance is helping Shiro to eat the soup Hunk had whipped up. The latter lets out a curse as Shiro-out of instinct-drops the spoon and tries to stand, ready for action.

If Lance wasn’t so mad at the alarms stopping his progress, he might’ve been amazed by how quickly Shiro’s composure changed. Far off and glassy to alert. Unable to run, he hurries as fast as possible to the bridge on sore limbs.

“Oh come on!” Lance looks over to Hunk full of desperation. Shiro hadn’t spoken a word since getting to the kitchen and it had been weird to feel so uncomfortable around their leader. Lance couldn’t remember a time before the toxin where he felt anything but calmed or reassured by Shiro’s presence.   

Hunk shrugs back, removing his apron and glances at the uneaten food; then hurries out the door.

Allura can’t help but feel disappointment-it had taken her the better part of a varga to convince the unresponsive paladin he needed to eat-but she swallows the worry and follows the others to Shiro’s destination.

* * *

Keith and Pidge are waiting for them on the bridge and Coran waves from his control panel.

Hunk quickly assesses the paladins as he gathers around. The normally inquisitive, or as of late, sorrowful eyes of the green paladin are an agitated pink. And the invisible wall Keith always has around himself seems thicker.

A mask of emotionlessness covers the red paladin’s face in an almost haunting way. For Hunk, whose become used to Keith’s personality (or lack thereof in Lance’s opinion), the unnatural stillness of his lean frame and over taught features tell him everything. 

Shiro clears his throat in a vain attempt to sound less ravaged, “What’ve we got Coran?”

Pidge fails to suppress a cringe at how normal he sounds; voice ruined and catching on the words, but the ring of a true leader...so familiar it was like nothing has happened. 

He stands tall and Pidge can believe-just as she had before-that Shiro is in complete control. That she is safe following him into whatever danger awaits.

“Well it seems like we’ve passed through an area of Galra patrol,” the Altean spits out the name, “and the fuzz balls seem to be scouting a new planet but sent soldiers to scope it out.”

Shiro tilts his head in concentration and Hunk is awestruck that he’s even standing. One more dobash of screaming and the yellow paladin would’ve gone insane.

“Alright team, if we get the ground soldiers in the air with the patrols, we can take out an entire planetary Galra invasion before it begins.”

The ring in his voice, the proud stance-it was almost believable. But, Keith sees right through it. The dark circles beneath those empty eyes, devoid of hope for so long, and the slight hunch that breaks his stoic posture were evident enough.

“What’s the plan?” Lance feels warm adrenaline flow through him at the prospect of a successful mission. He’s itching for a fight. To feel useful again.

“Allura and Coran will pilot the castle of lions to covering us. I think a scattered approach will work best; spread their numbers thin and eradicate.”

The speed that Shiro says ‘us’ isn’t lost on Pidge. She looks over to see Keith’s face turn to a dangerous shadow.

“Pidge you’ll use the stealth tech on the green lion to get close to the ground unit and ruffle them up into the air. Hunk hide and cover her. Keith use your speed to take the space patrolling ones away. Lance and I will help where needed.”

The room is silent as they absorb the plan.

“Shiro,” Keith keeps his voice strong, “you aren’t going out there. No way in hell.”

He doesn’t say that he won’t make it if anything else happened to Shiro. He doesn’t say that his soul can’t take anymore.

But he doesn’t have to.

The leader of Voltron looks as if he might argue but drops it instantly, giving a curt nod of obedience when their eyes connect. Every unspoken thought is written in those dark orbs.

“I will keep watch from here.”

The paladins run to board their lions before he can change his mind. Allura notices as Shiro watches their receding forms; a father watching his children go off to war.

Despite having been ‘cured’ for only two hours, Shiro fights hard to remain planted in the castle. His heart knots up at the thought of staying behind while his team goes off to fight. Without him. Standing on the bridge-watching through the windows-he can’t keep his family safe.

He takes a deep breath to release the building pressure in his head and ignores the dull throb.

* * *

Pidge clears her mind and feels the green lion reach out to her in return. She smiles at the sinsation. “I missed you too, girl.”

A comforting purr envelopes her mind and she gently pets the controls, activating the stealth tech as they descend.

“Hunk, head toward the tree line and hide. Cover Pidge when she draws them out.”

“Copy that, Shiro.” Pidge sees Hunk pull from her flank to find cover. The black specks turn into purple spots then tall grueling bodies. Images of the two Arena handlers flash in her mind causing her to jolt the controls. Green dips to one side in response.

“Everything alright Pidge?” Shiro voices from far above.

“Yup!” The too enthusiastic reply alerts Keith and he dares a glance down see her nearing the unsuspecting Galra.

He doesn’t have to wonder what had set the green paladin off-Keith has been on edge since the discovery too.

But now isn’t the time for that; he needs to stay focused on his part of the plan. And it isn’t a good idea to be distracted when he is currently racing through a narrow cavern at top speed, feigning left and right to get rid of the long trail of Galra he has collected.

A smile tugs at his lips as the sound of metal colliding into the close walls fill his ears. Because if he can’t masacre the beasts that tortured Shiro-he’ll take them down one by one.

And he might have Galra blood in his veins; but he’d savor each and every one.

* * *

Hunk tries not to think of how silly he must look. A peaceful grove of orange trees with lush silver grass, a steady stream of bubbling water-and one enormous yellow mechanical lion. 

But his gleeful face scrunches in focused concentration as the green lion leaps into the sky, bursting towards the atmosphere and space where Lance is waiting.

Hunk can feel the yellow lion tense around him, responding to his own body.

“Easy girl, any minute...now!” He gets sight of the first ship launching after Pidge-making up for the lost time with its red blasters-and burst from the treeline. Ten ships rush to the darkness of space, unaware of the dangers above...and below.

From his spot at the end of the line, Hunk fires, immediately hitting the Galra that had been gaining on the green lion. One of the others got caught in the crossfire and exploded in a ball of flames.

“Nice shot, Hunk!” Shiro cheers.

Pride blossoms in the yellow paladin’s chest as Pidge and her new ‘companions’ disappear into the thin line of clouds.

With a steady hand, Hunk slams forward, breaking through the atmosphere.

* * *

“Lance get ready, here they come,” Shiro says through the comm link. 

But the blue paladin is ready; once in range he rams into the side of one ship and speeds away, successfully getting some to follow him.

Pidge and Hunk are making quick work of the last few; Pidge spinning to face the line while Hunk continues his attacks from behind.

“What’s your status, Keith?”

“I can’t tell how many are left, got’em in a narrow valley on the south side of the planet.”

Even through the pulsing in his head, Shiro’s tuned ears pick up on the threadlike urgency laced throughout his words.

“Hunk get to Keith. Use your canon to-to…” Shiro fades out and Coran looks up from his panel to see him leaning quite heavily on the table.

The paladins voices fill the comm, louder than the blasts and crushing metal around them; worry intensifying.

Shiro never faltered in his commands. Ever.

Coran was about to run over when Shiro straightens, clearing his throat. After blinking a few times he continues.

“Use your canon to attack from above. Collapse the cavern walls.”

After a moment's hesitation Keith speaks.

“Are you ok?” Then curses as a gaining ship takes a shot that misses and sends a cascade of rocky debris around him in a blurry cloud.

“Stay focused Keith. Hunk go help him, I’m fine.” Despite the strength in his voice, Coran can see Shiro reaching for the table again with clenched eyes. He shakes his head and squints into the battlefield.

The pressure building in his head is getting harder to ignore; but he forces it down and refocuses.

He can eat and rest once his paladins are back safe. That’s all that matters and that’s all that keeps him upright.

* * *

 Lance couldn’t let himself get too caught up in worry about his faltering leader; unfortunately for the blue paladin if he wanted to make it back to Shiro in one piece, he needed to get rid of the dummies behind him.

Only one problem: in the moment of confusion he’d gone blind to his surroundings and ended up in a long cave. And he had no idea how far it would go on. Each time he turns a sharp bend, he holds his breath unsure if he’ll be met with a dead end.

“Hey guys? A little help here!”

“On my way, hang on!” Lance has never been so happy to hear Pidge’s voice.

Then, all at once the cave ends and with a yell he jerks the controllers, causing Blue to run up the wall and ceiling, claws digging in to support the 360 degree stunt.

Most of the Galra collide-unable to maneuver without robotic claws-and the green lion is there guarding the only way of escape, taking out the remaining ships.

“Take THAT!” Pidge yells then turns and speeds to the exit flanked by Lance-the cave collapsing from her blasts.

* * *

“Hey, if you guys are done we could use your help!” Hunk says through a grunt as he tries for the hundredth time to collapse the cavern walls.

“On our way!” And they were there in a flash of green and blue.

Pidge pauses to take in what’s happening. She can’t count how many ships are chasing Keith through the narrow pass, but the scar runs deep on this side of the planet with no end in sight.

Keith’s flying Red so masterfully she could imagine the garrison idiots blushing in awe.

The only person that could outmatch his piloting skills is standing in the castle of lions; watching from above.

Hunk was trying to shoot just behind Keith to separate the ships from him and simultaneously trap the Galra.

But these space patrols are faster and smarter; Hunk can’t get a clear shot. They’ve stopped shooting at Keith which is a small blessing, but Pidge isn’t sure how much longer Keith can hold out.

“Guys, I have an idea,” Pidge offers, “It’s probably a bad one.”

“I’m all for it.” Lance notices the exhaustion washing over Keith's words.

“The ships are too fast to hit behind Keith-too small a target. I think Hunk should aim in front of Keith.”  
  
“No way! I’ll hit him!” Hunk squeaks.

“Oh come on Hunk it’s a solid plan,” Keith almost begs.

“Yah come on you’ll be fine,” Pidge reassures.

“I’ll do it.”

“Lance...are you sure?” Hunk questions.

“He can make it,” Keith voices, “and I’ll pull up in time. Just countdown.”

Lance is struck by how genuine Keith sounded. They’re like family but to put his life in Lance’s hands…

“Can you do it?” Pidge says, breaking his thoughts.

“Yes,” he pours every ounce of confidence he has left into those three letters.

“Wait,” Hunk interjects still racing above the cavern, “what does Shiro think?”

Pidge can’t believe she hadn’t noticed the lack of input from their leader.

“Shiro? Should we do this?”

The lines go quiet as they all listen for the steady voice to reply. But Lance’s question goes unanswered.

From inside the ship, Allura steps down from the bridge and approaches the black paladin; fingers digging into his temple.

Suddenly the pounding ache is gone and he feels light headed. _I really should’ve eaten when I had the chance_ , Shiro thinks, remembering that he hasn’t had real food in days.

“Are you alrig-” But her question is cut short by the sound of the teams desperation.  
  
“Keith can’t hold out much longer!”

“We need to do this now!”

“Shiro?” Hunk is terrified at the lack of response. _Come on Shiro...we need you_

“Lance get ready, on three!”

“You sure about this Kei-”  
  
“Just do it!”

 

“One…”

 

Lance steadies his breath, clearing his mind, and envisions nothing but the target.

 

“Two…”

 

Positioning his hand over the trigger ready to fire. Keith tensing to pull up with only milliseconds.

 

“Th-”

 

“NO!”

 

The shout startles everyone and Lance faltered, removing his hand from the trigger. 

Allura catches Shiro before he can hit the ground and Coran rushes over to help, patting Shiro’s cheeks. But his eyes are unfocused, like he was seeing through a haze.

“No-no…”

 

“Lance fire now!” Allura’s voice jolts him away from Shiro’s desperate pleas and he counts down again; voice shaking.

 

“One”

 

“Two”

 

“Three!”

 

Keith is out before the blast makes contact. Perfectly on target.

The fleet is trapped and the other lions close in, destroying the survivors.

But there’s no time for celebration. They fly at breakneck speed back to the castle.

Back to Shiro.

* * *

“Princess, the lions are in their docks; you need to land us somewhere safe,” Coran says from the floor urgently. He sets Shiro down gently and rushes to his control panel to assist with the landing. “Allura!”

“Oh! Yes of course. I’ll go do that...right now.” She tares her eyes away from the mumbling heap on the ground, truly wishing to understand what was happening. Not being able to return the favors he’d made for her was getting old.

She was just setting her palms on the controls when three very tired looking paladins burst in; sparks in their eyes.

They turn their attention to the floor. Kneeling-palms flat on the cold ground to brace the shaking muscles, wide eyes filled with pain once again-was their leader.

Pidge curses under her breath. It’s too much, it’s not fair, to see his eyes filled with pain again.

But she’s become fluent in the language of pain and knows this agony filled gaze isn’t what she had become so familiar with. This dialect had only been spoken to her once before; when Shiro had begged for someone to take his life.

Keith draws a step closer and the others follow. Frantic whispers-carrying the same weight as the Arena victims names-flow through the air. But these words are strange.

“What is this language he is speaking?” Allura voices after concluding that she has never heard the syllables before.

“I think it’s Japanese?” Lance answers after a moment of intense listening. Keith’s raven hair bounces in tandem with a nod.

“Yah,” he clears his voice, “it’s his mother tongue.” Pidge quickly explains to Allura and Coran after seeing their confused looks at this ‘Japanese’ and ‘mother tongue’.

Getting even closer, but careful not to touch him, words of comfort mix with the whispers as the paladins try to help.

“Wait a tick,” Keith says suddenly with an outstretched hand as he bends down to listen. He rises, long hair casting a dark shadow across his pale skin.

“What is it? Can you understand him?” Hunk asks and again, Keith nods.

“Just one word...Grandfather.”

* * *

Hunk looks back down at Shiro who’s now clawing desperately at the ground.

“So what does that mean? What’s he seeing?” He doesn’t know anything about Shiro’s blood family. It’s silly but Hunk has never imagined him as having one.

The thought of a mother and father-siblings even-worrying about whether their son was still alive; only to one day discover that the death they’d always feared would be mercy compared to all he’d endured...it was too much.

“Shiro’s parents died when he was young so his grandparents took him in. They lived in Japan and raised Shiro.” The edges of Keiths lips turn up at the memory of Shiro retelling the story one day as they overlooked the canyons by the Garrison after a hoverbike race. Chests pumping, sweat dripping down their faces, utterly exhausted-yet Shiro had never looked happier. Keith's lips fall.

“His Grandmother got sick and slowly faded; she passed in her sleep one night. Shiro is the one that found her. His Grandfather gave double the love and cared for him boundlessly. He taught Shiro how to climb this tall bamboo ladder to collect the ripest peaches which they would share under the shade of the tree.

“After a nightmare filled sleep that his Grandfather helped him through, Shiro went to school. Wanting to make him happy, his Grandfather thought to fill a basket with peaches as a surprise for when Shiro got home from school. But their neighbor rushed into the classroom and ushered Shiro into the hall...his Grandfather had slipped on the ladder and fallen from the tree.”

Pidge clasps a hand to her mouth, suppressing the anguish that fights to escape. She sees Lance look down at the still shaking body at their feet.

“It’s his funeral...that’s what Shiro’s seeing,” Keith mumbles.

“Well what do we do?” Hunk asks the red paladin.

Keith’s eyes stay on Shiro and Lance notices they are filled with pure sorrow, more than usual, which he didn’t think possible. Keith opens his mouth to speak but whatever he was going to suggest dies in his throat.

Instead, he kneels down next to Shiro and to everyone’s surprise, embraces his shaking leader with arms of steel. As he gently pulls his friend away from the invisible tombstone, Shiro thrashes weakly.

“No! NO! He’s all I have left! He wouldn’t leave me!” his ruined voice is pushed to the breaking point, leaving the last part as nothing more than broken chords.

Allura subconsciously lifts a hand to her heart; positive she would feel it shatter. She had been naive to think the trauma was over, to believe she wouldn’t have to see her friend suffer any longer.

“Shiro,” Keith whispers.

Lance is amazed by the softness in Keith’s voice; considering he spoke through clenched teeth while struggling to hold the black paladin back.

“He’s gone. But you’re not alone,” he spoke into the larger paladin’s ear as the animalistic sounds only grew, “you’re not alone.”

But Shiro can’t hear the comforting words or feel the strong arms supporting him.

So he screams.

He screams for his grandfather, for his parents, for all he has lost and all he has become; until a fit of bloody coughing forces him into unconsciousness.

The group stands frozen; wet eyes unfocused. Pidge lost in the patches of red coating the floor and Lance being pulled back to the beach...once again reaching for the beautiful shell.

Hunk knells beside Keith who holds the unconscious body protectively and offers a hand of comfort.

But the fierce princess, heir to the dead kingdom, stands perfectly still for fear that if she disturbs her regal form, she’d become one with her people: ash and sorrow.

Another victim of the Galra Empire.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, if you aren't into graphic scenes, panic attacks, or accidental self harm please don't read this chapter.  
> Also a disclaimer: I have never had a panic attack and biased it all from what I could research online. If anything stands out as completely wrong please let me know.  
> I will put a summary in the end notes so you’ll be caught up with the story without reading the details. 
> 
> Thanks to all who have left kudos and comments!!

Keith incessantly scrubs at his arms and grows more frantic with each slide of nail against skin as he tries to remove the scarlet stripes adorning his body like an abstract painting.

The dried blood flakes off into powder. He’s breathing it in-oh god is he breathing in Shiro’s blood...

His eyelids slam shut not able to look at the corpse in front of him. Pale and unmoving with a mouth thickly stained.

The red paladin had lost Shiro before, but he can’t do it again. He’s too weak; soul too strained. What’s happening-am I-where’s the floor? Which way is up? He gulps down air but it doesn’t hold. He reaches out, clutching to the body beneath him like a piece of driftwood.

Someone is calling out to him but the sound is warped and fluid like hes underwater- like he’s drowning.

* * *

 

The room is quiet.  

A mourners circle around Shiro so eerie and suppressing he has to remind himself that it isn’t real. The floor isn’t holding the dead body of the black paladin.

No matter how real it feels to Lance.

He looks to the princess- an unreadable expression on her statuesque face- then to the boy kneeling in the splatters, coated in their harsh realities. Lance still can’t believe the conscript was dry cheeked and blank faced.

But despite the emotionless stare, Keith isn’t still. With movements like that of a robot, he begins agitating the skin of his rigid arms without a conscious.

And then he breaks.

Lance sees the very second it happens.

Keith's eyes grow wide; dark pupils retreating into yellow tinted orbs; his fingers curl onto Shiro’s body, clinging on with white knuckles. He gasps to fill air into his insatiable lungs.

The scene triggers a montage of a little boy trembling in his bed with dilated eyes and heavy tears falling from full cheeks to flash in Lance’s mind. He squats to the floor and with a gentle hand on each of Keith’s shoulders, turns the paladin to face him.

The fear is so unnatural in these eyes Lance sucks in a sharp breath and quickly regains his composure. _Be the rock in his chaos._

“Keith,” he whispers into the storm. “Look at me. Focus on me.”

The red paladin painfully tares his eyes from Shiro and looks up; but Lance can tell he’s still drowning.

“Keith, I need you to breathe ok?” Lance fills his lungs. “Follow me-in...and out...in...and out…”

Pidge and Hunk slowly join them on the cold floor, careful not to overcrowd as Keith breaks the surface, chest finally returning to a less worrying rhythm.

They all breathe a sigh of relief and Keith hides beneath his hair- coherent enough to be embarrassed. They all remain in uncomfortable silence until in a gravelly voice Keith suggests they get Shiro to bed.  

The princess bites her tongue to keep from lecturing Keith on how he shouldn’t feel embarrassed around them and he needs to tell them what is wrong. She knows Keith would not appreciate the speech.

In one fluid motion, Allura gathers Shiro into her strong Altean arms and with Corans help, they carry him out.

Hunk lends a hand which Keith takes as he rises from the floor and glances back down at the stained floor. His posture guarded- heart begging no one to speak.

Pidge slides an arm through his, a link of unspoken comfort and sisterly love. He looks down with a detached and still hazy gaze but makes no move to break the contact.

Then, quiet as a graveyard, solemn as a funeral procession, the paladins file off the bridge.

* * *

 

“He is asleep for now,” Allura voices to the lounge. The paladins are melted into every cushion; mostly in exhaustion- one in unnecessary shame.   

Coran, in a desperate attempt to lighten the mood, pipes up.

“How about you lot put on one of your Earth films then get some res-”

“Why is this happening?” Hunk interjects, asking no one in particular.

The abruptness is so unlike Hunk; but Pidge realizes it’s almost like he’s asking the universe; a hardened soul regarding the fabric of life. Desperate for it to relinquish it’s secrets.

“Ah yes,” Coran tries not to sound disappointed at his failed attempt. “I do have a theory.”

That catches everyones attentions and all eyes are on the ginger haired Altean.

“I believe that the act of reliving...everything…possibly removed the block Shiro put in his mind. As a result, the memories are flowing out freely. Allura and I installed a little something…”

With a long finger, he presses his tablet a few times and an image appears on the lounge room screen.

Only it’s not an image, Hunk realizes. He’s just so still.

“Is that a livestream?” Lance asks in disbelief.

“Yes,” Allura conferms. “We felt it necessary until we can better understand what is happening. We must keep an eye on Shiro for his safety.”

“We have them all over the castle just not in the bedrooms,” Coran explains.

Lance lets that sink into his tired mind and he reasons that yes that makes sense. He looks up at the screen again.

Shiro is laying so still beneath the sheets; both arms on his chest, the metal band on his Galra arm reflecting the yellow night light that Hunk put in a while ago.

Allura lowers herself into an empty spot on the couch, soft foam urging her tensed muscles to relax. She looks to either side at the droopy eyes of her paladins, then up at Shiro. Despite everything, in this rare moment of peace the princess smiles.

“Sweet dreams, paladins.”

Coran dims the lights and heads to the bridge with a heavy heart.

The blood stained floor won’t clean itself.

* * *

 

A scream cuts through their sleep like a jagged shard of glass. Keith’s eyes fly open and Lance jolts up with a cry of his own. Everyone stands at the ready, muscles tense, looking for something to fight.

But except for four paladins and an Altean, the room is empty.

Shaking the hazy remnants of sleep away, Hunk looks around again to make sure he isn’t missing anything.

The yellow paladin’s eyes land on the screen behind them.

“Guys?”

They all turn around to face the livestream in time to see Shiro letting out another howl.

Faster than the group had, Shiro shoots up from his bed. Hands fly up to cover the sound in a way that tells Lance this isn’t the first time he’s woken in screams. The yellow night light casts a sickly glow onto the sheen of sweat coating him once again.

Stumbling in the dark he makes for the exit, slamming into the door on the way out.  
“Where’s he going?” Pidge asks, concern in her voice.

“Should we not be helping?” Allura has no idea what to do and feels just as useless as the last time.

Keith makes to run after him but Lance holds a hand up, “Give him a minute.”

“Lance,” Keith says in a warning tone, “Allura’s right we need to go comfort him.”

The wildness in his eyes make Lance falter but he holds his ground and explains.

“My little brother...he had night terrors. And whenever he woke from one, would need a few minutes alone to figure out what was real.”

The fire in Keith’s eyes extinguishes as he tries to think of something to say.

“He would figure it out on his own?”

Pidge pushes her glasses up, “I read that some people who have night terrors need physical stimulation to distinguish reality. Usually something familiar or comforting to them.”

Lance nods.

“My brother would eat candy or junk food. He was convinced that anything that tasted so good couldn’t be from a terror,” he laughs bitterly.

Coran runs in having received word from Pidge and cues up the training rooms video feed.

“Are you sure that’s where he will be going?” Allura asks.

As soon as the words leave her lips, Shiro bursts into the gym, answering her question.

He looks awful in the full light. Flesh hand shaking, legs unsure if they can hold his weight, he hurries to his punching bag using the wall to support him.

Keith leans closer subconsciously and feels the others do the same.

They watch as Shiro attempts to take a deep breath then attacks the bag. Pidge tries not to notice how similar the movements look to the Arena fights.

His composure changes, completely absorbed in the battle against his imaginary opponent.

Eyes lowered and focused- deadly calm- as he dodges punches and blocks his face. After a well aimed kick to what must have been the ‘opponents’ jaw, he straightens.

Immediately his hands raise to the scar on his nose and he blinks rapidly. Fighting to see through the vision.

Pidge can see he’s failed when overwhelming guilt fills his eyes as he lowers into a predatory stance. Pidge can see into his mind like a window; see the harmless slave standing across from him, the look of acceptance on their face. Ready to escape the unforgiving existence of the Arena.

Shiro lunges forward letting out a yell as Galra fist connects with the bag- the skull- delivering a killing blow.

So much force is given through the strike that the thick ceiling hook snaps, causing the punching bag to go flying across the room.

The champion staggers over to the bag with confusion. It shifts between a small ocean colored creature in ragged clothes to a blue punching bag. Something at the top of the creature/bag reflects the light and he reaches for it with his flesh hand.

Needing to feel something. Feel what was real.

Desperately, Shiro bends down and grabs the glimmering object, almost falling into it.

And suddenly, a feeling bursts into him, piercing the haze and confusion. He jumps back in surprise.

Gasping, he looks down to his hand, where the sensation is blooming like a beautiful scarlet rose.

This he knows.

The world becomes clearer as he is pulled completely from the hallucination. Pulled out by an old friend. His best friend.

This feeling, Shiro realizes, is always present and has been for as long as he can remember.

He is no longer standing in a dirt pit- one more kill added to his roster and another murder weighing down his consciousness- he is home. In the Castle of Lions once again; all thanks to the blossom.

* * *

 

Hunk swears he can hear the first drop of blood hit the mat.

The entire room is utterly speechless as they watch Shiro pressing into the wound. Blinking rapidly as he looks around the training room.

Like a blind man seeing a sunrise for the first time.

“Uh guys? What’s he doing?” Hunk can feel his voice rising an octave with each word.

No one answers, still glued to the screen.

“Pain,” Lance whispers finally, “He’s using pain to anchor himself.”

Keith turns, his pulse quickening, “Can we go to him now?”

But Lance is gone. Already tearing through the halls.

* * *

 

“I told you to kill me,” he says softly as they burst into the training room.

Lance doesn’t know what to do. The quiet words echo in his head as he takes in the scene.

Sitting on the floor, Shiro stares at his abused hand. Galra fingers dripping red.

Lance tries to speak. Not knowing what to say but knowing he needed to say something- anything. But Shiro cuts him off.

“Don’t. Just don’t.” Still staring at his hand he shakes his head slowly then lowers it.

Allura cannot believe what she is seeing; how empty the plea is. The princess realizes that she is witnessing the impossible. Takashi Shirogane is giving up. That invincible light leaching from his soul almost as fast as the blood that never seemed to stop flowing from him.

She speaks softly, “You’ve survived so much, Shiro. I cannot imagine what you have gone through and must endure again. But you mustn’t give up hope. We are all here for you.”

The paladins look from the princess to the floor. Their leader speaks in a voice not his own as his head slowly rises.

“That’s the thing isn’t it?” Keith takes a step back at the unfamiliar tone of his words. Shiro must have grown accustomed to the toxin because it was laced in each syllable.

“That’s what I’ve been doing my whole life. Surviving. Having hope. I’ve never lived. Only survived.” He looks to each of them, devoid of his characteristic hope flecked eyes. When everything was falling to pieces, Pidge could always find solace in those flecks. But now, a chill goes up her spine.

“You can’t kill something that’s never been alive.”

His gaze returns to the mess and Coran can see the last of the black paladins emotion rise at the sight.

“Come now let’s wrap that hand up!” Coran says, trying to keep up his bubbly attitude.

But Allura isn’t fooled; they’re all worried sick.

* * *

 

Lance stands facing Keith’s bedroom door; hand poised to knock. He looks down at the contents of his other hand and after another moment of hesitation, brings knuckle to metal and waits.

The door opens to reveal a blank face shrouded in tangled strands. The shadows of the unlit room behind him seem to reach out.

Lance awkwardly clears his throat, “I was just checking up on everyone, but you probably don’t want me here so I’ll just-” He turns to leave but the door widens.

The red paladin disappears into the depths and Lance follows, joining him on the edge of his bed. But not before pressing his hand, and the small object, into the door to close it.

They sit beside each other without saying a word; finding enough comfort in the presence of one another.

Staring at the pristine floor, the past hour plays like a film in front of them.

After Coran had wrapped his hand in a white cloth, Shiro allowed himself to be supported by Allura’s firm hold, one arm around his shoulders and the other his chest, as they all walked the halls leading to his bedroom.

But along the way, he’d had another attack.

He’s abruptly fallen through Allura’s arms, becoming dead weight as he crippled to the floor. Screaming and clawing at what was left of his right arm until he dug into the white bandage- metal hand unable to feel it’s strength- to provide the vital pain. Until finally he passed out; white cloth turned deep pink.

Hunk and Allura had then heaved the unconscious form into bed where he was hopefully drifting into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Lance looks over to Keith whose thick lashes flutter like hummingbird wings. He opens his mouth but Keith beats him to it.

“I-I don’t know what to do,” voice barely a whisper. “I can’t do it Lance…I just...I can’t...he’s my-he’s my brother.”

The red paladin’s voice breaks around the difficult words. Lance remains quiet; letting his friend speak his mind and expel the pent up emotions that always seem to hover. Always threatening to crush him.

“But-but it’s killing me. To see him like this.

He’s done so much for-for all of us...for the universe...and this is what he gets? It’s not fair. It’s not fair.”

Lance waits, feeling the last bits of Keith’s wall crumble. Afraid he’d scare Keith away in this rare moment of vulnerability.

“What if...what if he goes where I can’t follow?” Not sure what he meant by that, Lance looks over again; but only dark locks stare back.

“I’m a monster, Lance. This part of me...I’m not a religious person but Shiro and I-Shiro and I are definitely ending up on opposite sides of death.”

He falters in his rapid stream of confessions; and then...Keith shatters.

Unable to hold onto the weeks worth of tears, his eyes succumb to gravity. Skin so smooth the drops fall off like pearls over marble.

In this moment, he isn’t the red paladin. He is a scared boy- shoved into the unforgiving gore of the universe too soon and told to man up- for he was to protect this already ruined existence.

Without hesitation, Lance takes a hand- one that had pulled a trigger to end countless lives- and sets it on the broken child’s shoulder.

But the child- descendant of hate and violence and love- doesn’t respond. He sits on the alien bed, floating through space in a vessel, containing the legendary defenders of the universe, with lost eyes.

Looking utterly defeated.

Lance knows that somewhere in the castle, Pidge and Hunk received a notification on their tablets and were now watching Keith unfold through the small camera planted on his door.

It was a decision he’d made after visiting the two and hearing their genuine worries about Keith’s inability to let his emotions show. They are a family, not by blood but by blood shed, and Lance knew Pidge and Hunk needed to see Keith fall just as much as he needed to see them rise.

Somewhere during this stream of thoughts, the gentle shoulder touch had morphed into a full embrace.

Coming back to reality, Lance is shocked to find in his arms the raven haired boy; and even more shocked to find that boy not pulling away. Lance’s shoulder is soaked through with expired tears but he feels honored. Keith Kogane let down his walls. For him.

Eventually the sobs fade into sniffles, then cease to exist. Lance gives one final squeeze, just now realizing how much weight Keith has lost. But he can’t criticize; none of them have had much of an appetite lately- even Hunk.

Keith pulls away and before he can give that awful look of unnecessary embarrassment, Lance clears his throat.

“Hey, why don’t we go see him?” Lance speaks to Keith but glances into the camera with a pointed look.

Keith drags the back of a hand across his nose and wipes the last tears. Lance notices the still raw flesh of his arms from this morning but decides not to ‘make a big deal’ as Keith would say.

“M’kay,” he mumbles quietly not looking up.

Lance takes the opportunity while Keith isn’t looking to quickly remove the camera, sliding the device into his pocket, as he opens the door.

He has to blink a few times as the usual calming lights of the hallway assault his eyes. Maybe that’s why Keith’s brow is always furrowed, he’s so used to seeing into the darkness of reality that anything remotely happy or luminous burns.

Once his eyes have adjusted, Lance is glad to see Hunk and Pidge understood his brief que through the video feed.  
They stand in the hallway, an air of trying to act natural surrounding them. As if it’s perfectly normal to be propped against the wall outside of the red paladin’s bedroom like a bunch of highschool jocks. Lance laughs under his breath and Hunk loses his balance and jumps up from the floor.

Keith emerges from the room and bobs his head in a what’s up. No one mentions his pink eyes or Lance’s obviously wet shirt and he’s grateful.

Pidge gives him a smile that tries but fails to reach her distressed eyes. He walks over and to everyone's shock, envelopes her in a warm hug. A silent thank you for the strength she offered earlier.

But the warmth doesn’t reach Pidge; it’s too late to thaw her frozen heart.

* * *

 

Allura is standing outside Shiro’s door, still deciding if she’s going to enter or not, when the paladin’s turn the corner.

Her quintessence reaches out and returns with the news of tears and ice. The tears, much to her surprise, are most definitely from Keith’s puffy eyes. How interesting.

The princess is about to great her friends when Pidge speaks.

“So what’re we gonna do?” Her usual spark of hope and curious energy gone. And if she’s being honest, this new Pidge scares Allura. It is almost as if the repetition of not having an answer had been wearing down on the young genius; the inability to solve the problem is eating at her soul.

Allura feels at a disadvantage- being so unfamiliar with the human mind, with how it seems to attack itself. She wonders how a whole planet can deal with seeing their friends and family suffer so much.

It sounds awful even as the thought arises, but the princess is glad she has never seen this before.

Allura’s eyes go wide as an idea sprouts from her thoughts.

“Lance!” The blue paladin jumps in surprise. “You helped Shiro before, and you seem to know a lot about these night terrors. Can you think of any solutions?”

Pidge sparks behind her glasses, yearning for the possibility of a solution.

“Yah, what stopped your brothers?” she asks, careful not to get her hopes up.

Hearing the desperateness in their voices is like a blow to the heart. Even Keith lifts his head for an answer; the color in his face making him look more alive than ever. Lance wishes he could water their sprouts of hope, but reverts his attention to the floor.

“Um, my brother was put on these meds that made him depressed. My mom took him off of the pills and I guess he grew out of them?” His heart clenches at the thought of his little brother. The night before Blue chose him, was the last time Lance had spoken to his hermanito.

So little he didn’t even take up half the screen as they videochatted; a nightly ritual. Chubby cheeks bouncing as he’d recount his day in the most exaggerated way possible. Lance still remembered every detail of that last call; the exciting day at school when he learned about the solar system and yelled to the class that his big brother was going to explore every planet, the warm empanadas abuelita had ready when he got home, and the birthday celebration they were planning.

Lance tries to hide the growing pools in his eyes as he realizes he wasn’t there for the birthday party. He suddenly remembers the wrapped present he had hidden beneath his pillow at the garrison- a piece of metal from one of the ships.

He never got to see the bursting smile or hear the squeal of delight at the gift. Instead, his little brother had gotten phone call and breaking news segment.

Had he grown out of the night terrors? Or did his protector, his big brother make them worse?

Lance’s face turns hot with frustration. Why does he always mess things up? Why can’t he ever fix things like Hunk or Pidge?

An iced hand cools the burning skin as the green paladin reaches up to wipe the tears away.

“Hey, it’s okay you’ll see your family again. We all will,” Pidge sooths.

Standing apart from the group, Keith clears his throat.

“Guys, I’m sorry but I have no idea what to do.”

“It is not your fault,” Coran says, “this is no one’s fault but the Galra.”

Allura curses the universe for bringing the paladins into this fight. It was never their war to fight. This whole ordeal started with the Alteans, so why can’t she end it?

An idea bursts to life. How could she be so stupid to not realize sooner?

Hunk notices Allura straighten with a gasp and the others look up.

“I’ve got it! There could be a solution in my father’s archi-”

_KKSSSSSHHHHHHHH!!_

Everyone freezes at the deafening noise cascading from behind the door. Keith’s surroundings melt away as he pushes past his friends and bursts through the door.

Passing through the threshold, his foot slams down with a worrying crunch. It’s too dark to see into the room but light from the hallway reflects off of the floor where a scattered layer of glass coats the ground.

His eyes follow the trail of glittering light to a pair of feet. Keith can’t hear anything over his heartbeat until someone clicks the lightswitch.

Behind him, Hunk gags and Lance lets out a curse.

 

“oh fuck”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the summary:  
> -Keith has a panic attack from the events of the last chapter and Lance helps him through it  
> -Lance reveals that his little brother used to have night terrrors a lot so he knows about them  
> -Shiro has another attack and learns pain grounds him (can pull him from the hallucinations) after injuring his hand during one  
> -Keith finally lets down his walls and crys to Lance, the other paladins watch through a camera Lance put in secretly  
> -Allura gets an idea on how to cure Shiro but is interupted by a loud noise coming from Shiro's room


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again :)
> 
> Mentions of suicide in this chapter so please take care of yourself and skip this one if need be
> 
> Otherwise hope you enjoy!

_ba bum_

The fragments surrounding Shiro’s feet turn from luminous white to slick red in the blink of an eye.

_ba bum_

Straining to hear over his heartbeat, labored breathing fills Keith’s ears as his gaze slowly rises.

_ba bum_

Keith wishes the lights were still off. Wished the room was still cloaked in darkness and protecting his eyes from the scene before him. Wished he didn’t have to see...

_ba bum_

...Shiro standing with his metal arm braced on the jagged snow covering the table…

_ba bum_

...and the other embedded in the wall.

It takes Keith a moment to put it all together; the glass, his hand, the steady stream of thick blood pouring from the wall.

He realizes in horror that there used to be a mirror mounted there. An industrial strength Altean mirror, made to withstand the harsh conditions of space travel.

Keith takes a cautious step forward; easing his foot into the battlefield below- trying not to make a sound.

The small adjustment gives him a view of Shiro’s face.

Despite the rough breathing wracking his solid frame, he doesn’t move. Doesn’t make any motion to show he knows where he is, or that his friends are here.

His eyes-

Keith looks away. For his best friends unblinking eyes aren’t strained in pain…but filled with death.

Lance can’t see Shiro’s face from where he stands, but the fact that Keith had to look away isn’t  a good sign.

Because although he can’t see Shiro’s eyes, he can see Keith’s. And they held an emotion never seen between the two friends. Fear.

“Hey bud,” Lance whispers gently, “you with us?”

The statuesque form makes no response as Pidge reaches into the dresser behind her and removes a dark t-shirt.

Getting Keith’s attention, she throws it to him, wiggles her hand and points to Shiro.

Keith understands but for the first time in his life, is too scared to move. All he can see is crimson.

There’s too much. He’s seen too much and he doesn’t want any part of it. His whole existence is stained red- his paladin armor, the lives he’s taken, his dying friend- or the lack thereof; the purple flowing through his body against his will reminding him that he’s connected to the monsters that caused all of this torture.

Keith can feel the room start to spin again, can feel himself slipping into the deep end, threatening to drown in the sea of glass.

_no stop STOP! Shiro needs you right now get ahold of yourself! What a sorry excuse of a paladin you ar-_

Pidge is suddenly there beside him, a steadying palm on his burning skin. She reaches for the shirt, mouthing that she can do it instead, but Keith shakes his head and takes another step.

He fights past the unrelenting voices, reaching through to Shiro. He takes another step closer and as his mind clears, becoming acutely aware that Shiro could seriously hurt him in this state.

Keith has never seen Shiro so still with his eyes open and although he normally wouldn’t care about getting hurt, he knows that Shiro would be devastated. Injuring Lance almost broke him, and that was before his mind started attacking him.

As much as Keith hates to admit, Shiro is fragile right now. As fragile as the glass embedded in his skin.

“Shiro?” he tries to keep his voice solid and low, “I’m going to touch your arm okay?”

Although his eyes are now closed, concealing the death rimmed irises, his chest still rises and falls unevenly like a racehorse; rapid and deep.

Reaching out slowly, Keith brings his hand to the unmarred skin of Shiro’s lower bicep. The muscles are painfully tight, coiled to spring. He can feel the staggered pulse echo through the bulging veins; delivering more blood to the lacerations.

Keith’s feather light touch becomes more secure, and some of the tenseness melts. As gently as half humanly possible, Keith dislodges the rest of Shiro’s arm from the wall.

He cannot believe Shiro hasn’t passed out from pain. His eyelids hadn’t even clenched tighter at the jarring. 

Hunk gags from the corner of the room, fighting to keep everything down, and Keith doesn’t blame him. It’s a mess.

The thickest shards jut out of his pale flesh; Keith would be surprised if they weren’t piercing bone. Blood drips from his skin as easily as sweat, pooling on the table and continues to flow from the wall in a steady stream.

The inside of his hand was thankfully somewhat protected due to the fist he’d made during impact. Or else Shiro might not have regained feeling in the pads of his fingers or palm.

An injury like this back on Earth would mean an amputation, no questions asked.

Lacerated tendons and split bone...another lost arm...Keith was starting to go light headed.

After removing his hand, Keith quickly wraps it with the shirt loosley as to not jostle the shrapnel, and looks up.

Somehow Shiro’s breathing has evened out but his eyes remain closed. Keith can feel him slightly tremble.

“Look at me, Shiro. Open your eyes,” Keith coaxes, “it’s alright. You’re safe.”

And he does. Shiro opens his eyes and Keith sees where all of that pain went. The golden flecks of desperation pulsating with agony; the last thread of desire to survive severed in those once thriving orbs.

And like a cosmic nebula, they explode. Leaving nothing but darkness; nothing but an endless void.

Keith is frozen by the massacre of hope and doesn’t notice Coran carefully leading Shiro over to the bed or feel Hunk pull him out of the way.

Allura watches in fascinated horror as Coran expertly retrieves each reflective piece from the depths of flesh and bone. And yet, the black paladin does not flinch. He stares at nothing and shows no signs of pain.

Coran works in silence and Allura wishes he did not have to do the meticulous work. But without the objects removed, Shiro can not be taken to the cryopods; lest they wanted skin to heal around the glass, forever trapping it.

Suddenly, Allura recalls her brilliant idea that had been interrupted. She fights the overwhelming urge to scream it out. The princess will have to wait until Shiro is taken to cryo for she would never forgive herself if she gave him false hope only to crush it.

She sneaks out of the bedroom while everyone is hypnotized- unable to look away. She returns with a transport chair from the medbay and is disappointed to see Coran is not yet half done.

So she waits.

And waits.

Time seems to slow as her excitement rises but _finally_ the last piece clinks into the metal pan in his lap.

Allura rushes forward, chair ready and with the help of Coran and Hunk, eases Shiro down. The pain seems to be setting in and the paladin’s eyes grow heavy with each passing second. His head begins to droop and he melts into the chair almost falling off.

Although he most likely cannot register anything at the moment, Allura rests a hand on his shoulder.  

_Do not worry, Shiro. You will not have to suffer much longer...I hope._

* * *

Allura hurries through the castle’s halls, excitement growing. She had sent a message to the paladins while waiting for Coran to prepare the cryo chamber informing them that she had something of most importance to share and to meet her soon. 

It had been a somber time hauling the unconscious form into the pod, her and Coran had not spoken other than for him to offer some words of comfort that Shiro’s hand would not be lost.

But now, as the Altean princess stepped into the kitchen, a spark of hope ignited inside of her. A weak flame that was scared for its life; but a flame nonetheless.  

“There might be a way to save Shiro,” she announces. Three sets of wide eyes look to her in question and disbelief.  
  
“Huh?” is all Pidge can manage.

“I believe there could be a solution in my father’s archives,” she explains in a rush of delight, “There are scrolls and books outlining my powers as discovered by the Altean forseers.”

The paladin’s eyes stretch even wider at the news.

“With all of your help I am sure we can find _something_. It could take some time and I do not want to inform Shiro unless we do find a solution.” She taps on her chin and gets an idea.

“I will ask Coran to set the cryochamber to Durinian Sleep which should give us at least twenty vargas.”

Hunk scrunches his brow, “What sleep?”

“It is a setting we Alteans would use on our warriors when they had not slept for months during battle,” Allura explains, “it is dangerous if done too many times, but just this once there is no risk.”

Keith jumps up from his seat, walks towards the door and abruptly turns back around.

“You guys coming?” he says.

Lance falters as the red paladin turns, a huge smile on his face.

* * *

The library had nearly brought Pidge to tears. She couldn’t believe she’d never ventured to it. 

Spiraling shelves spanned floor to ceiling filled with ancient texts. The cases were covered in a transparent film.

“To protect them during battles,” Allura had explained as they’d all stumbled around dumbfounded.

The Altean princess was overjoyed to see the look of wonder inject them with life. She watched from the center, remembering the fond memories of sitting among stacks of books with her father. She had always loved sitting in his lap and peaking through his royal cape, pretending to read the complicated scrolls.

An elaborate crystal chandelier cast a soft aqua hue around the ring of shelves and the black ground was specked with luminous dots that Pidge realized were to emulate the stars.

Lance had never been much of a reader, but when Allura had handed translator glasses to each of them, he couldn’t wait to start.

The paladins walked across constellations as they each claimed a section to search through. Climbing up the transparent ladders, scavengers of hope, Pidge had never felt more alive.

It had taken longer than they’d hoped, and Coran had gotten Shiro from the cryopod to a meeting spot. Allura was now leading her tired paladins through the halls to see him; her little flame flickering with uncertainty.

Pidge’s heart is in her throat, the newfound information not settling well in her stomach. Yes, they had found a few possible solutions, but she knows Shiro will never accept them.

The Altean stops in front of a door unfamiliar to the paladins and tries to give a comforting smile. She pushes through the door and they file in.

Hunk gasps as he steps through the threshold. He’s never been in this room before, as it’s on the farthest end of the Castle of Lions, and immediately regrets his laziness.

The largest wall is completely clear, revealing the never ending star studded darkness of space. A modern color scheme and sleek design flows throughout the room that would make an interior designer cry in awe.

Shiro sits at the head of a massive conference table that seems to be crafted from an entire tree. The wood’s marbled grain is fluid as a river and Hunk forgets all of his worries as he takes a seat in one of the light grey embossed chairs.

The others take their seats just as impressed; only Allura is unfazed by the artisanal beauty.

“Alright Shiro, I am going to get right to the point,” she wills her eyes to meet the dark rimmed gaze from the other end of the table. “I had the idea to look in my father’s archives for a solution to help you. While you were in the cryo chamber, we looked extensively through the collection and came up with three options.”

Shiro’s features stay neutral but the fact that he does not reject the help is a good sign.

Allura places a hand on two books and a scroll before continuing.

“First would be a complete memory wipe,” she tries to keep her feelings out of her voice. But even she can tell that was a horrible thing to suggest to the man before her.

The paladins swivel to look at Shiro as he shakes his head.

“Losing my memory the last two times was...awful. And even then it was just parts; if you took all of it I wouldn’t know who you all are. Or who I am,” his voice lowers as he averts his eyes, “I wouldn’t be me.”

His body seems to reject the idea as Hunk notices him shiver slightly.

“Next?” he says, eager to change the subject.

Lance glances to Keith and they exchange worried looks. This isn’t going to go down well with Shiro.

“Well...I could take away the negative response your brain makes when you think of your painful memories. Basically, there would be no trigger to cause night terrors, panic attacks, or hallucinations. You would still have the memories and know they are bad but nothing would happen.”

Shiro’s eyes go wide with disbelief before narrowing.

“What’s the catch?”

“What do you mean?” the Altean feigns confusion.

“Come on, Allura. I might be...not at my best, but I’m not stupid. It’s too good to be true for you to just…” he wiggles his newly healed hand, “...and poof I’m better.

“And what if it is simple as that?”

“Princess, that doesn’t happen in my life.”

Defeated, she releases a long breath, unable to continue. Thankfully, Pidge fills in quickly; like peeling off a bandaid.

“She would have to divvy up the negative quintessence…”

“And put it in each of us,” Hunk finishes.

The air goes cold as Shiro’s voice slices through the room.

“If you think I would let any of you go through even a _fraction_ of what I’m eduring, you don’t know me.”

Lance notices his body tense, sensing a fight- the blue paladin speaks up.

“There’s one more option. Allura?”

“The final option entails you being...locked into a room that would be fitted to minimize harm to yourself and others.”

Lance shakes at the thought of Takashi Shirogane being wrapped in white linen and sealed off in some room with pillows for walls. Being fed through a hole and having no one to talk to while his friends were watching movies, sharing meals together, and completing missions.

The chill dissipates as Shiro contemplates.

The legendary warrior averts his eyes, looking to his hands, before nodding to himself. He rises from his seat and glances out the windows.

That star specked sky used to fill him with a sense of wonder and awe. All he ever wanted was to venture into its depths and understand its secrets.  

But instead, he’d learned the weight of the word Champion, and experienced what it was like to wish for death and survival with equal fierceness.

“Ok.”

The others look to him then to each other with confusion.

“Ok…?” Keith says hesitantly. Shiro can’t possibly be considering being kept like an animal- like a Galra slave almost- there is no way.

“The last one. I’ll do it.”

They all gawk at him and the room erupts. Each shouting out various versions of ‘no way!’ and ‘you’re crazy!'.

Keith’s voice rises over the others as his pleads become barbed with anger and frustration.

“We can cure you! Don’t you understand that? We would all rather bare this than see you suffer anymore!”

Shiro lets out a feral growl, startling everyone into silence.

“ENOUGH!”

With both hands in claws bracing his crouched upper body, he glares around the table into each set of eyes, pinning them where they stood. Through bared teeth, he continues.

“The only ‘ _cure_ ’ is death,” he spits the word out like poison, “can’t you see that?!”

Despite every nerve in Keith’s body screaming to flea, he doesn’t relinquish.

“Oh come on Shiro! If it was flipped- if this was happening to one of us, would you end our lives?”

“Without hesitation.”

Keith falters, realizing his poor choice of words all too late. As the Champion, the stone faced man before him had put countless slaves out of misery. And Keith has seen him do it...wearing the same expression.

“You know we can’t. We won’t.”

Retracting his hands from the table, Shiro straightens.

“Then I’ll find a way to do it myself.”

The way Shiro says this makes everyone freeze once more. The words echo through the room as he walks to the door. A new sense of purpose propelling his strides.

* * *

Keith stands up and kicks one of the beautiful chairs, breathing heavily. He looks around with wild eyes and starts to pace with clenched fists.

The others look to each other with desperation that charges Lance’s mind.

“What about the Black Lion?” he asks, an idea starting to form.

“What about her?” Keith pauses in his constant motion.

“Well, their quintessence is linked right? And she put Shiro in the astral plane to save him from Zarcon.”

Pidge looks up, excitement in her eyes and points to the books and scroll lying on the table.

“Are there any more of those that say what the Lions can do?”

They all look to Allura, eyes so full of hope she thinks it might break her. It has been so long since she’d seen them so full of energy. She’s happy to report that yes, there is a section for that.

After Coran promised to keep an eye on Shiro, they all race through the halls back to the library.

They sift through information for hours with no success, and just as Allura is about to call it quits, a shout burst from under a pile of books.

“AHA!”

It’s been so quiet and everyone so focused that Pidge falls out of her chair and Lance drops the scroll he was reading.

“What?!” Keith yells, hurrying over as they all crowd around Hunk who’s digging himself out of the pile. Clutching a book, his finger marks a page, and a huge grin lights up his features.

“Some of it isn’t getting translated by my glasses, but I think...I think this might be it. Allura, will you do the honors?”

He hands the book over to her trembling hands. Hunk is practically jumping up and down.

Clearing her throat, she scans the page, eyes widening as she reads.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello :) So I was planning to make this only 13 chapters but as I was finishing the ending, realized it would be wayyyy too long for just one chapter. So I'm going to change it from 13 chapters to 14.  
> But that means that chapter 14 should be up in a few days! 
> 
> I can't thank you enough for reading, commenting, and giving kudos!
> 
> <3 <3 <3

Coran’s muscles ache from dragging Shiro into bed. The strain induced cramping in his arms and legs had yet to cease at the recent action. A painful reminder of what he had done. 

Allura’s call had come when the group should have been in the conference room. He had dove for his tablet to answer the chiming of his tablet, the screen revealing his princess racing through the halls, paladins close behind, as she quickly told him of the failed meeting through gasping breaths of exertion. 

Frozen in place as the news sunk in, Coran had seen Keith reach for the tablet; arms bouncing with each hurried stride. Before handing it over, Allura had looked dead into the camera.

“Find Shiro and do not let him out of your sight. Please, Coran...please.” 

The desperate plea had sent him on his own race through the halls to locate the lost male; the red paladin’s voice still echoing in his head. 

Keith had grabbed the tablet, not hiding the red rimmed eyes or the thick tears that poured onto the glass surface like rain.

“Coran, he- he said he’s- he’s gonna…” But the forbidden words would not enter the world, less they would become true. Instead, he had leveled his gaze through the pool of crystal liquid. 

“Do whatever you have to.”

Coran’s steps thundered almost as loudly as the command. Almost as loud as the plea. He turned a corner and abruptly halted. Shiro was walking through the hall, back to Coran as he calmly made his way to the next corner. Coran let his steps to softly connect with the hard floor and sucked in a shaky breath to calm his pounding heart.

Coran was not so proud as to think for a moment that he was any sort of match for Shiro’s physicality. None of the paladins were; not even the Princess in her full height. 

A plan formulated in his head, but he beat it down almost instantly, even though deep down he knew it was the only way to stop Shiro’s own plan.

_ Do whatever you have to _

He took in another breath and willed his shoes to click slightly as he walked. Rolling his shoulders and curling his mustache with a gloved finger, he quickened his pace.

“Hey, Shiro! Whatcha up to?”

The paladin didn't even look over as Coran caught up with him or as the Altean tried to match his long strides. 

“Nothing.” The flatness in the word and contradictory shadow in Shiro’s eye confirmed what he had to do. But Coran couldn't. Even as he realized the restraint band missing from the Galra arm.

“I could use some ‘nothing’. I’ve been working on the mainframe for hours...” A complete lie. He had spent the last hours cleaning out the cryotube and getting rid of the glass and blood in Shiro’s room “...mind if I join you?”

This time Shiro did look. Coran tried not to wince at the harshness in his empty face or the predatory glint under those shadow veiled eyes. As if for the first time, weighing Coran as a threat.

“I need to do something, Coran.” He said finally, “Go find the others.” 

_ Patience yields focus.  _ That’s what Shiro always said to Keith, to the other paladins. Words their leader lived by. But, as he walked through the dark hall about to end it all, Coran realized Shiro had run out of patience.  _ That’s it. I am so so so sorry.  _

Coran fell back a step, but in his normal bubbly voice spoke in a whisper, letting wonder and false curiosity fill his words. Poison pooling into a perfect orb at the tip of a viper’s fangs.

“How...how did you do it?” 

Shiro didn’t stop his momentum at the odd question. Didn’t turn. And so Coran continued as well, preparing himself to taste that poison on his tongue.

“All those innocents…” Coran could see every exposed muscle tense beneath the paladins pale skin. But he kept walking. “Tell me...what we’re their names?” 

The black Paladin froze. Not a single breath moved his chest.

“Zaronoth, Letarga, and that little blue one?” 

Coran stopped too, careful to stay out of reach. His gut twisted with shame of what he needed to do. 

But Coran would not let Shiro kill himself. 

_ Do whatever you have to _

“Did you cry? When you severed their heads from their bodies, Shiro, did you cry? When the blood soaked the dirt and the Galra handlers brought in another, did you mourn? Did you feel anything when you took them from their families? Took away any chance of escape? Of a future?”

Shiro’s feet remained planted, but he was trembling, whole body shaking. But despite the overwhelming desire to throw up, Coran let disgust fill the words as he practically spat on the paladins back. 

“How  _ dare _ you take their food and water. How  _ dare _ you fuel your body to slaughter them. Did you think of them, starving in their cells knowing their  _ killer _ was fed?” 

A loud thud as Shiro’s knees gave out and he collapsed to the floor, clutching his head and curling into a tight ball, teeth chattering as he groaned in pain.

“S-stop,” he pleaded.

But Coran would not. 

“You want to kill yourself?”

“Stop.”

“You want to get out easy? Well they didn’t have that choice! So  _ why should you? _ ”

That paper thin wall that had been slowly ripping, leeching memories that had been fueling his panic attacks for the past days, that wall shattered _.  _

Without warning, Shiro was back in his cell shaking as the violating cold navigated through his tattered rags; then strapped to that awful metal table, thick bands of leather digging into his chest and limbs; then his ears filled with a roaring crowd, the stench of blood clogging his nose. 

But as darkness threatened to consume him, it’s teeth dripping obsidian night, he turned to the arena center. Only, the opponent he faced wasn’t an innocent slave, wasn’t one of the countless he had murdered that haunted his dreams. 

There, standing in front of him, looking out of place in the sea of crimson sand- especially with the handlers enormous purple hand around his throat- was Keith. 

Darkness clouded his vision, hungry once more, but a voice slithered through it. 

“Leave, and this one dies.”

Keith looked at him, eyes flashing with fear at the words. But then he straightened, lifting his gaze to the creature above him, the hint of a smile gracing his features.

“You’re wasting your time. Shiro would never leave me.” His voice hoarse against the solid grip. 

Shiro could feel the darkness behind him growing, a glance back showed a creature of the void, gaping maw open. 

The handlers smug expression melted away, his body with it, as another took form. 

The King of Altea now stood beside Keith. “You’ve seen what they do to their prisoners, Paladin of the Black Lion who has defied all odds. You would never allow one of your own to endure such horrors.” 

The warm smile the Altean produced didn’t reach Shiro. 

“I am no Paladin.” 

With that, he turned his back to that glowing ember of light, and walked to the creature behind him. 

Even as the ember screamed for him, Shiro did not turn. Not until he stepped into the mouth did he turn. Just in time to see Galra pouring onto the arena from their seats. Just in time to see claws and teeth rip him apart. 

_ Goodbye, Keith _

Coran had no idea what Shiro was seeing, but he saw the moment something broke. Saw as the wall came down, as something vulnerable became exposed. A piece of light in the hellscape of memories that were contained no more. 

Glassy eyes indicating Corans success. He stopped taunting, knowing Shiro's mind would take over the rest. Tear him up inside in a way that Coran never could. So he backed up as Shiro thrashed and roared on the ground. 

Coran fought every instinct that screamed louder than Shiro, telling him to embrace the warrior; beg him for forgiveness. But he knew the only true way to restrain Shiro was for him to be asleep and lacking the strength or proper injection to do so quickly, Coran had been left with this last option. Trigger the black paladin so badly that he would completely shutdown. Coran had used his weakness against him, had dug a rusted blade into an already open wound. 

Finally, the screams stopped, the shaking ceased, and the mighty black Paladin went slack with unconsciousness. 

Coran desperately hoped Allura and the Paladins could find a cure...because what he had done to Shiro- whatever he had caused to break….Coran did not think could be healed. 

 

* * *

 

The paladins in front of her could not bare the silence any longer, it seemed like an eternity as she read. 

“Well??” Keith pushed, growing impatient. 

Allura was trying to find her voice, trying to tell them of what was inscribed on the ancient pages. She cleared her throat and straightened her posture.

“It says that if the Black Lion and her paladin posses a strong enough bond, the Lion may be able to remove the paladin from their body...and create a living astral form from both of their quintessence. The process is purifying and meant to expel negative energy.”

Keith felt light headed with relief and Hunk put a supportive hand on his arm. 

“Hunk, you’re a genius!” Pidge exclaimed.

“Well what are we waiting for? Let’s go tell Shiro!” Lance was halfway to the door when the princess suddenly spoke again.

“Wait.” Allura held up a hand as she read the hand scrawled note in the margin. “This has never been successfully accomplished. No paladin has ever had a strong enough bond to the Black Lion.”

Silence filled the vast library once more. But Keith took a step forward, out of Hunks touch, and faced the group head held high.

“We have to try.”

The red paladin sounded exactly like Shiro. Calm and collected despite the maelstrom; a true leader. Pidge felt her eyes water for the thousandth time that day.

Hunk raised his chin in agreement, shoulders squared and ready. Pidge recognized the stance. The pattern caused her to turn towards Lance who threw a lopsided smile to Allura...just like Shiro.

And standing just so, she could feel their quintessence melding, intermixing in an otherworldly embrace. The others stilled, able to feel the sensation as well. 

Warmth seeped into her frozen bones and Pidge could swear she could just barely make out the crashing of waves in the deafening silence of the library. 

Allura gaped at the paladins before her. One moment Keith had spoken and now… they were glowing. 

Colorful auras encapsulated them like a second skin. But it was not like during training when they momentarily were tinted with the color of their lions. No- they were an ebbing array of colors. 

“A sign,” Allura breathed to herself. 

From who- the lions, her father, one of the gods each planet they visited worshiped- the princess did not care. This was a sign. A sign that they were on the right track.

A sign that all was not lost.

* * *

 

Without warning, the dark room was filled with the light of a thousand stars. Coran fell out of his chair in shock, blinking furiously for his eyes to adjust to the blinding colors. Squinting through the swimming rainbow of energy that left no shadow or corner of the previously dark room untouched, something inside of him was pulled to the bed that, despite his blindness, he knew was beside him. Staggering towards the mattress he tried to check on Shiro, to make sure he wasn’t blinded too; wasn’t going to be triggered by the intensity.

Just as Coran thought his eyes might implode, the light receded.  _ Wait a tick.  _ No, the light wasn’t simply evaporating, it was being absorbed, pulled into the sleeping form beneath him.

And he was  _ glowing _ under the sheets. A ripple of the most vibrant yellows, reds, blues, and greens wrapping the massive scarred body. 

Coran was creeping closer, hand outstretched to touch the strange quintessence field, when suddenly, the door flew open.

“Shrio!!! We have a cure!” The paladins shouted, bursting into the room. 

Coran jumped back from the now dull body, waving his hands furiously as he whispered fiercely to not make a sound.

But it was too late. Shiro, who had been asleep in bed, jolted upright; black splotching his vision as his own voice rang loudly in his ears. 

_ Sorry excuse for a leader...I’m a monster...I am no paladin...goodbye Keith... _

He fell back onto the mattress, clawing at his chest as he gasped for air. The others abruptly skidded to a halt, realizing their mistake.

“Oh shit,” Lance blurted out, “sorry!” 

They all waited for what felt like an eternity; struggling to not yell again the news. Allura noticed Coran’s hunched shoulders and far off look. The Alteans had gone through enough together in their long lives that she knew something was terribly wrong; could almost see the weight of something pressing down. This posture was a rare outfit that Coran reserved for an even rarer emotion. Guilt. 

But before she could further dissect the way his eyebrows scrunched just so, or how his muscles were tense with overexertion, Shiro took a solid breath and hauled his body into a sitting position. 

His blank eyes did not rise with his body, but became fixed on his palms. He brought the one made of flesh to his mouth.

“What.”

Keith tried not to let the lack of emotion on his face or in his tired mumble. The command wasn’t laced with anger or hope or sadness. But each letter was strung together with exhaustion, the kind one didn’t care to wake from.

Shiro lifted his gaze, surveying the room. He could tell the paladins were electrified with excitement, but the energy didn’t reach him. A part of his mind said it should, so he looked around again...but felt nothing. 

Laying back onto the bed, he turned on his side, back to the room and closed his eyes. Lance gaped at him, incredulous at the act that was so unlike Shiro. The black paladin had  _ never  _ turned his back on them. 

“I found a cure!” Hunk said loudly once he could remember how to speak.

Shiro could feel the eyes on his back, envision the hurt expressions on their faces as their smiles dimmed. Shiro can’t remember if he’s supposed to care. He’s too tired. So so tired. He can’t remember what response would make them happy. He couldn’t even remember what that felt like...happiness. 

The word was foreign in his mind. Less familiar than the metallic taste trickling down his throat from biting his tongue when the others had burst in. This he knew.

He knew if he could see it, that taste would be a real thing. A physical stream the color of rust that he could touch, taste, smell. 

But...happiness?

Shiro didn’t know what happiness smelled like. 

Utterly puzzled and too tired to keep wrestling with such a pointless idea, his mind went blank again as he called for the darkness to claim him. 

* * *

 

Lance looked over his shoulder to Keith. That strange yet alluring glow had faded gradually during their race to Shiro’s room and, now that it was gone completely, Lance could see a new color gracing Keith’s skin. 

And it wasn’t red.

* * *

 

It’s not like Keith had expected Shiro to jump up and give out bear hugs like he’d do when excited or anything, but he was worried to see him unfazed by the news. No, scratch that, Keith wasn’t worried. He was past worrying, the feeling that gripped his throat and pushed on his lungs was so familiar now, he barely registered it. 

“Shiro.” Keith whispered, soft yet firm.

No response. No disturbance to the steady rise and fall of Shiro’s back.

A tidal wave crashed through him, engulfing the fear and worry. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t think. And as he surrendered to the power, the world turned yellow, the wave propelling him to the bed. He didn’t falter at the tingling in his nails as they sharpened to thick points, didn’t question his pale skin deepening into a rich purple.

Lance, although he’d been watching the tint of Keith’s skin evolve intently, hadn’t seen it. 

Didn’t know they had moved until Keith was suddenly on top of Shiro, pinning his shoulders to the bed with obsidian claws. Face inches away, lips peeled to reveal bared teeth-  _ pointed _ bared teeth.

And Shiro...Shiro looked perfectly calm despite the terrifying yet beautifully lethal sight that was Keith. But it was the Champion that stared back with that killing calm that haunted Pidge’s dreams. It was the Champion that despite being pinned to the mattress, was illuminating Keith’s face. Galra arm raised to the purple throat above him.

Less than an inch existed between his jugular and the humming prosthetic.

“Do it.” Keith seethed, voice unfamiliar through the elongated canines. “If you don’t want our help, then  _ do it _ .”

The moments that passed seemed like an eternity as the warrior below actually  _ considered _ the offer. Keith stayed statuesque as the unyielding hand cast a sickly glow too close to the killing spot.

Hunk itched to jump forward and do something. Stop whatever was about to happen. But he couldn’t move. Could barely remember to breathe. 

Shiro seemed to be looking for something. In Keith, in himself, he looked between the red paladins eyes. And, coming to a conclusion, he lowered the arm.

A collective sigh of relief hissed through the room.

“If it involves you getting hurt, just leave.”

Pidge noticed the still luminous hand. The slight growl vibrating each word.

“We won’t get hurt, and you will keep all of your memories without the...negative side effects,” Allura added in their defense.

Lance could practically read the question struggling to take form on Shiro’s face.  _ What’s the catch? _

“It might not work.” The blue paladin said, unable to hear the question. Unable to face the bitter reality, once more, that the universe had been so terrible to Shiro that it was his natural reaction to ask who would suffer. Even with a damaged mind and tired soul.

Shiro contemplated the answer. “No one gets hurt?” He said with disbelief.

Hunk shot Allura a wary glance, but she held her ground and said as evenly as possible that Shiro would be the only one that could possibly be at risk.

No voice came from the bed as the information flowed through severed neurons and a haze of bleakness. He was quiet for so long, Pidge thought he might be about to fall asleep, but suddenly, in one fluid motion Shiro rose to his full height.

He didn't let any emotion show on his face, for he had none left. But something deep inside of his core, a microscopic piece that pulsed in the quickly spreading ice, made him put a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

Shiro looked into his eyes. No trace of yellow, that had been bright as Hunks armour, could be found. Nor violet in his skin. But he looked into those irises and let them search his own; read the question there.

_ How many times are you gonna save me? _

Keith’s orbs twinkled in the dim light pouring from the hall.

“As many times as it takes,” he rasped.

And that was all he needed. Shiro nodded and turned to the door. Striding across the room something changed inside of him. He could hear whispers of memories, not clear enough to grasp onto and cause an attack...but still a nagging presence. 

Voices and visions crashed through his mind in a final attempt to confine their favorite habitat of a broken host. Vicious, seething whispers sneaked within his head, vibrating against his skull, as the ice like grip around his core tightened. 

He stumbled and flung himself at the door frame, latching on with white knuckles. 

So empty inside he shivered, not sure he could keep walking. Fear invaded that vulnerable piece inside his core as his surroundings began melting away like candle wax. He faltered, losing his hold on the doorframe and began sliding down it, forgetting why he even bothered when the fridgidness from inside him threatened to suffocate the empty shell that he was. And he was so heavy...it would be so much easier to just let the artificial gravity take hold. It seemed to want him more than he did.

But an arm wrapped around his waist and hauled him to his feet. The solid shape grunted but began to take staggering, yet consistent, steps through the hall. 

Hunk did not falter. Hunk did not sway under the immense weight. Hunk kept going.

And so would Shiro.  
  



	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp, this is it... the last chapter. 
> 
> Thank you so so so much for all of the comments and kudos!!   
> I hope you like the ending :) Can't wait to hear what you think <3

Tension had risen with each step to the Black Lion’s hanger. And now that they were almost to the door, Pidge felt like she might explode from anticipation; knew they all felt the same...well other than Shiro. 

The battered warrior looked like his body was fighting him more than usual, if that was even possible. The thought horrified her. As they walked, Shiro began shivering, gradually morphing into violent tremors that ripped through his muscles, his whole body shaking. 

His eyes stayed clenched tightly in pain, the only sign of discomfort. Whenever he’d started to slip, giving into the artificial gravity- by choice or not Pidge did not know- Hunk had shifted more of Shiro’s weight onto his own shoulders and tightened his grip. 

By now, Hunk’s knuckles were bone white and beads of sweat graced his forehead like a halo. But his eyes had not diluted from their determined gaze that was constantly pointed forward, and his knees did not buckle beyond his control. 

They had each offered to take some of the load, even Coran who for some still unknown reason seemed exhausted. Pidge caught the Altean rubbing at his biceps a few times, trying to be discreet. But Hunk had simply shaken his head and kept trudging to the hanger. 

Now, as they stood in front of the towering door, the yellow paladin allowed Lance and Keith to help get Shiro through the threshold and to the Black Lion’s base. 

Pidge didn’t miss the alarmed looks both males flashed each other at the immense weight or at their momentarily hunched postures...how had Hunk carried Shiro’s full mass the entirety of the trek? 

Allura silently retrieved a water pouch from the wall cooler beside the door and offered it to Hunk as they trailed behind. With a small yet grateful smile, he took it with shaking arms.

“This better work,” He threatened in a rare and husky tone as he fought to catch his breath. 

Allura had no doubt the paladin of sunshine and warm smiles would become something truly lethal if their plan was not successful. In fact, she would bet her eternal life that the yellow paladin would walk right into Haggar's ship and tear the witch to shreds. Or die trying. 

Hunk and Allura join the others at the front of the Black Lion. Her eyes, though dull at the moment, somehow calm Allura.  _ This is it. _ She thought after taking in Shiro’s deteriorating form. 

The shaking has worsened and she can hear the faint grinding of teeth. His legs hang limp, feet dragging behind him as the two paladins, with much difficulty, bring him forward. If they were to let go, Allura was afraid that Shiro would fall to the floor. But what frightened her the most, is the thought that he probably would not get up.

From between Keith and Lance, Shiro takes a few shallow breaths before weakly raising his head to his lion. The way he seemed to stare into the Black Lion’s essence breaks Pidge’s heart. 

Sure, Shiro had asked them for “help” all those bloody weeks ago, but _ this  _ was a true cry for help. She knew that despite the lack of words, Shiro was communicating with her through their shared bond. The bond that now held the power to save or doom him. 

Shiro didn’t break contact with the lion.  _ His  _ lion.

“ _ I’m turning into something I don’t want to be...at least I think I don’t... but I don’t remember how to care. My mind is killing me and I don’t even care. I can barely  _ feel _ anything anymore.” _

Despite the Galra arm slung around the back of his neck and the deadweight attached, Keith smiles at the now illuminating eyes that gaze upon them all, as the Black Lion lowers her head with a strange growl before slacking her jaw. 

Ramp extended, Shiro made to take the burden of his weight off Lance and Keith, but his knees gave out and he came crashing back to their shoulders. He didn’t blush with embarrassment like the old Shiro would’ve, a fact that might have alarmed the others a few weeks ago. 

But now, the realization just settled into each of their hearts uncomfortably. Jagged glass being forced to fit like a puzzle. 

“Woah there,” Lance grunted at the impact, not just from the sudden weight. 

With a nod to Keith, the three staggered to the beckoning maw, coming to an abrupt halt upon reaching the ramp when Shiro straightens his legs suddenly.

Without looking at either paladin, Shiro tensed as if collecting himself and pushed from them. 

Finding his footing one last time, the last of the Champion flickered to life. That part of him that would never go down without a fight. But even it seemed to be fading away like ash in the wind.

He couldn’t sense the others in the room, but each staggered step Shiro took up the metal ramp became more solid. Barely, but enough. Ascending to its peak he paused to catch his breath. When he realized his lungs refused to accept the air he forced down in heaving gulps, Shiro turned to see the faces of those he used to feel boundless love for. 

But there was nothing as he flicked from reassuring eyes to smiling mouths. The tears that were barely visible, but glinted in the light of his lion’s eyes, did nothing for his tired soul. 

And when the broken paladin turned his back on those beings, taking a step...he hoped it would be his last.

 

* * *

 

The normally luminous cockpit was lacking its usual purple violet light; only the dull glow from the hanger that had followed him through the open mouth. But it didn’t matter if he was blind, Shiro knew the space better than his own scars. Heading to where he knew the piloting chair was, a warmth seeped into his frigid bones.

“ _ Takashi Shirogane _ ”

Shiro stumbled and fell to his knees in shock. Never before had the Black Lion spoken to him. In images and feelings, yes. But in words?

From the ground his chest continued to heave, but he wasn’t foolish enough to look around for the source of the voice. Instead he bowed his head, heavy laden with exhaustion and spoke through the sacred connection. The only thing left undamaged in the warzone of his mind. 

“ _ We don’t have a strong enough bond,”  _ He says bluntly, not wasting time he doesn’t have the luxury of wasting. _ “Even if we did, I don’t deserve it.” _

This time, when the voice spoke deep and true, Shiro did not startle.

“ _ Tell me this, child of the void...do you wish to be saved? _ ”

He opened his mouth but faltered. Sitting in this ancient wonder, the mind numbing cold melted away by her warm aura, and the haze shrouding his mind lightened. Just barely, but it allowed enough clarity for him to realize something. To hear the shrieking of his heart.

“ _ Yes. _ ” 

Shiro knew there was no need to elaborate, knew the Black Lion could sense his answer even before he had realized it. 

She purred at the response, as Shiro drew steady breaths into his starving lungs. And in a voice too ethereal for this universe, she spoke again.

“T _ oo long have you suffered from the dark. Now embrace it. Become it. You are its master. You are more powerful than you know.  _

_ It is time to claim your right, my warrior. A form I have honed from pieces of your quintessence that I have been sewing together since the day we were bonded; from the first time I felt true fear.  _

_ Fear of what you had endured, after all you have done for this universe who has wronged you so. Let this be your rebirth, my child. I sensed it long ago. Your quintessence flows brighter than most, you have been restrained in this form. But no longer.  _

_ Claim your right, child of darkness and light. And let all be witness to the strength of the warrior who  _ survived.”

 

* * *

 

Standing together- Hunk, Lance, Keith, Pidge, Allura, Coran- an energy connected them all. Allura could see that Lance was struggling to keep still, letting off the edge by shifting his weight from either foot lightly. She wanted to say something encouraging to the nervous group, but did not want to disturb Keith’s prayers- but more likely curses- to the universe as his eyes were clenched shut, head raised to the Black Lion.

The Altean's mind unwillingly drifted to their recent trek to the hanger. 

Coran had pulled her to the back of the group and slowed his steps. She couldn’t erase the look of guilt plastered on his features as she had nodded to Keith who had given a confused look but kept going on at her request.

“Coran, what is going on?” She had asked. His uneasy expression did nothing to calm her nerves.

He’d run a slender hand down the length of his face, not meeting her worried gaze. Shocked at the sorrow in the motion, Allura reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. He’d flinched at the contact.

“Coran, you are scaring me. What happened?” Tone elevating to a command.

He opened his mouth but closed it again with a stammer. Looking at the floor as they slowly walked, he hadn’t noticed his princess swivel infront of his path until he abruptly collided with her solid form. 

Allura only grew more worried at the lack of reaction. No quip or funny comment escaped his furry lip.

He’d only gestured to the fading group disappear around a corner with the flick of his pointed chin. An unsuppressed groan from Shiro flowed down the hall to them.

“I may have-”

But he stopped, trying to find a way to lighten the betrayal. Failing to do so, Coran had met Allura’s concerned eyes that beckoned him to continue.

“I...may have caused that.”

Allura’s brow scrunched in confusion, so he elaborated in a voice so low she’d had to move a step closer to hear him.

“The way he is acting all of a sudden. I...I broke him. What was left...I might have destroyed it.”

Despite not wanting to know the answer, Allura asked how Coran could possibly have been the cause.

“I triggered him badly...on purpose.” She did not speak, allowing the information to sink in as he continued in a hurried stream.

“You were- you were so scared and- and so was Keith so I did… what I had to.”

“Coran-”

“I know it was terrible but I could not let him-”   
  
“Coran!” Allura had grasped either shoulder with her own hands, grounding him. “Coran, listen to me. We are all doing our best to help, alright? Your intentions were sound.”

From beneath her grip, he looked so small. So frightened with himself and ashamed. But before she could think of anything else to say, he strode off.

“We should get back to the others.”

 

* * *

 

Positioned at the edge of their semicircle, Allura drifted back to reality. The Black Lion towering above them, where moments ago Shiro had disappeared into, and the ramp had receded.

Suddenly, a scream tore through the stiff air and they all squinted as the Black Lion’s eyes went white with blaring intensity. Interlocking hands, they stood their ground squinting. Preparing themselves to confront this new form, or to try and save whatever remained.

But, as quickly as it had started, the screams ceased to echos and the light dimmed, as the ramp descended once more.

The red paladin blinked the spots from his eyes as the distinct sound of metal on metal rang towards the huddled group. Keith’s vision finally cleared and his head quickly raised to the ramp. But standing at the top-

Keith didn’t hear the gasp that he felt slip from his own mouth, let alone the strangled sounds the others must have let out as well. 

What stood above them made his knees go weak. And he sensed, as if in a far off dream, Pidge fall to the ground; heard the cry escape Allura’s lips.

For what gazed upon him had eyes of the most breathtaking shade of gold. Through the honey and opal, Keith knew those eyes could  _ see _ . For the first time in months. Not through a haze of pain or veil of bleakness. These eyes were a weapon that decimated the festering darkness. These eyes were not of this reality. A million fields of the richest corn, the brightest locks of blond hair, even the multitude of Suns Keith had seen throughout the universe, were all put to shame by the otherworldly golden orbs.

The priceless molten color seemed alive in his irises, flowing in an infinite circle around the ink black pupils. Constantly changing, constantly revealing a new glimmer of hypnotizing gold to be set ablaze by the light. Keith was so lost in them that only after a few moments was he able to take in the rest.

If the creature’s eyes were brighter than any Sun and richer than all the coin in the universe, than the velvet fur coating nearly every inch was darker than a black hole. More intensely pigmented than the void that so recently had held a man captive. But this sleek darkness was as comforting as it was breathtaking.

A foot- enormous claws protruding from the dark paw- took a thundering step forward. Every toned muscle obeying with the movement. The ripple that vibrates from beneath the fur lined skin is all that’s needed to convey the power now flowing through the beings entire body. Shiro as a human was a child’s form compared to what now gazed upon them.

“A lion,” someone whispered.

But this was no lion. No word would be able to contain all that stood before them. Despite the glorious mane with that shock of white; despite the flicking tail and feline facial features... this was no lion. 

Lions do not stand almost six feet tall on all fours, or have razor sharp claws the length of Keith’s foot. No lion stands on three limbs of muscle and bone- and one crafted by an ethereal force into the most immaculate surface of smooth white with claws of crystal.

“No,” Hunk, who must’ve had the same realization as Keith, whispered in awe, “it’s Shiro.”

Hypnotized, no one moves as Shiro descends the ramp. 

Legs solid beneath him, not a tremor in sight despite the bouncing mane that framed his ebony face. As he put more and more space between his past and present, the light from the hanger was absorbed by his dark fur, yet reflected off something. And then Keith saw.

If his eyes were the purest of gold, then the silver woven through each scar was more brilliant than any in existence. Even the mass of fur could not swallow the chrome jagged stripes beneath. 

But they were never meant to be concealed.

As each mighty paw finally connected with the stone ground of the hanger, and the being was mere feet away, a roar erupted from deep within. Lance didn’t know what to focus on; the gleaming points of opal teeth, or the muffled yet mighty answering roars of the Lion’s from their hangers. And he didn’t bother to hide or wipe a single tear from his cheek. 

When the victory cry is complete, the being closes the distance between the group and sits back on his haunches. He notices the tear stained faces staring back and flops his regal head to the side. 

Laughter rips from each of them as they throw themselves at their leader. 

At their Shiro.

Pidge oogles over the new limb, running a hand over the smooth finish and marveling at the impossible lightness of it. The others take to commenting on the softness of his fur as it slides through their fingers, and compare his musculature to boulders, laughing uncontrollably.

Until Shiro lets out a massive yawn and they go wide eyed at seeing the rows of razor sharp teeth so close. Canines so sharp the points are invisible.

“Someone need a nap?” Hunk jokes.

Shiro turns his gigantic head to look at the yellow paladin, but his ethereal eyes begin to droop. 

“That is to be expected,” Coran says through a smile, “whatever he was lacking in his old body should carry into this one.” 

The Altean rubs a hand through Shiro’s scruff, taking note of the beautifully steady pulse beneath. “He has not slept in a very long time so he should be exhausted.”

Suddenly a grumble erupted from beneath the paladins who were sprawled over their friend.

“And hungry too!”

 

* * *

 

Hunk doesn’t care if the others see him pinching his arm repeatedly, he can’t believe what they’re following through the halls.

If he had to guess, Shiro's new body must weigh at least 600 pounds, given the height and immense muscle creating toned ridges beneath the sea of velvet fur and metallic scars. 

But as Hunk watched him move, so effortlessly and injected with feline grace, he had no doubt that the mass was easily managed and that speed would be no issue. He realized that the heavy steps were more likely due to exhaustion rather than from being to heavy for the limbs to support.

Odd as it seemed, the body looked to be crafted not only for brute force, but also for stealth and finesse. 

They trail behind with silent amazement, watching  _ Shiro _ , who pads his way to the kitchen yawning and fighting to keep his fuzzy lids open. 

As they follow him to the door, Shiro stops abruptly, blocking the others outside as he sticks his head in. His body tenses into a protective stance and Lance notices how his pointed ears flick. Searching for any threats to his mission.

When he seems satisfied that nothing is here to take his food or harm his family, Shiro looks behind him to make sure the others are alright, then continues.

Head up and sniffing, his nose leads them to the fridge where he bats at it in tired clumsiness with the front furry paw, denting the door despite the softness of his action. 

Shiro freezes and looks down at the non-metal paw as if it betrayed him. Lance hides his smirk at the confused look scrunching Shiro’s brow.  

“Woah, hang on there bud,” Hunk rushes to open the ruined door for him. “That’s gonna need some fixing,” he huffs in amazement.

But, Shiro quickly lunges for something, knocking the massive fridge shelves over and narrowly missing Hunk with his extended claws. And faster than Lance would have thought possible, he bounded to the other side of the kitchen, retreating to a corner. 

While Coran and Hunk clean up the mess, the others watch as Shiro savagely rips apart a giant hunk of raw meat; eyes of honey glinting with starvation. The new teeth go through his prize like butter. 

Hunk joins the group and from Pidges side and gapes, “I… haven’t been able to cook that yet... it was too tough to even cut.”

Pidge looked up at Hunk and met his disbelieving gaze.

“You’re not dreaming Hunk,” she joked and pinched his arm before he could.

After he was done and there were no traces of meat or bone, Shiro stretched with a deep grumble and stood back on all fours; satisfaction slowing his pace even more as the exhaustion set in once more. Looking behind him again, he padded out the door. 

Lance could have sworn he saw a smile spread across the whiskered muzzle. He looked over to Keith who gave a bark of laughter before following wherever Shiro was headed.

The blue paladin turned to the two Alteans as Pidge and Hunk left the kitchen to follow the not-lion and the happy paladin. 

“Why isn’t he talking to us?” Lance asked. The question had been pestering his brain as they had been traveling to the kitchen. “Can he even? This whole transfering of bodys through metal space Lion’s quintessence is kinda a new one for me.”

“From the book we found in the library, he should be fully capable of speaking into the minds of whoever he’d like to communicate with.” Allura answered, but then furrowed her brow in thought. “My guess is that he is still settling and from the looks of things, is simply too tired.”

Coran nodded in agreement, the shadow that had been over his features significantly subdued as Lance embraced the two.

“We did it, guys,” the blue paladin whispered into the intricate stitches of their clothing. 

“We did it.”

 

* * *

 

Keith fought to keep his legs strong beneath him as he walked closely behind the swaying mass of fur and willpower in front of him.

The red paladin could barely hear Pidge and Hunks excited whispers, most likely over the mechanics of that beautiful limb that was such a stark contrast to the living night streaked with silver. Could barely hear anything over the beating of his heart growing louder with each palpitation.

_ Shiro’s safe _

_ ba bum _

_ Shiro’s alive _

_ ba bum _

_ Shiro’s- _

A soft growl sliced through his focus as Shiro slowed his strides to lower his head beneath Keith’s hand, pushing up so that his fingers were buried beneath the soft mane.

And maybe it was the hell he’d endured and the exhaustion seeping into his own bones, but Keith could’ve sworn that a voice ebbed in his mind, light as a summer breeze.

“ _ I am here… I am with you… always _ ”

And they continued like that, walking in the silence, connected as they could never be separated. Despite the universe's best efforts. Two beings in a reality meant to destroy, neither completely human yet both stronger than they knew.

By the time they reached the lounge, Lance, Allura and Coran had joined them in time to be blocked, once again, from entering by a furry behind and a flicking tail. 

And again, Hunk is taken aback by the predatory grace that reinforces every strand of fur before being reabsorbed. From where he stood, the yellow paladin noticed the roughly healed mark along the bridge of Shiro’s nose; and how it wasn’t woven in silver like the rest of the scars. It looked the same as when he was human and Hunk wondered if the Black Lion had left the mark alone as a reminder, but also a challenge. 

That no mask would ever touch Shiro’s face again. She left the mark of a survivor.

Shiro’s posture softens as he pads heavily towards his usual spot on the sunken couch. But, as he attempts to climb onto the cushioned seat, that furrowed brow returns in realization that this new body was, in no way, going to fit. 

He looks so defeated upon jerking back to the floor that Keith tries and fails to conceal the laughter building in his heart.

A set of golden eyes and a silver tongue are flashed in his direction as he circles the floor at the center of the long couch.

Plopping with a loud thud, Shiro stretches out his long hindquarters to the side and brings the mismatched front two out front, crossing them for a pillow. He stares pointedly at each of them then jerks his head, mane flowing with the movement like a halo, to the floor.

One by one, the paladins and Alteans sink to the ground, and each pick a portion of Shiro’s soft hide to rest their tired heads on. Shiro meets each of their eyes before letting out a final yawn, and sets his head on top of the crossed paws.

A throaty purr vibrates the bodies laid across him, and Shiro could feel them all. His family.

Allowing the impossibly heavy lids to close, he let the five beating hearts calm his own; lets the tears wet his shoulder and soothe his renewed soul.

And Takashi Shirogane- famed student of the Garrison, pilot of the Kerberos mission, slave to the Galra Empire, Champion of the Arena, killer of Zarkon, leader of Voltron, paladin of the Black Lion, survivor of the universe- allowed his mind to go blank.

There was no darkness lurking in the shadows of his mind ready to claim him, for he had conquered it; had become it. And the sleep he willingly drifted into was euphoric. The memories of his past flitted in and out of frame, the voices mere whispers, but none slashed at his insides or threatened to destroy his mind. 

And for the first time in his life, happy to be alive, Shiro was ready to stop surviving. 

And ready to start living.    
  



End file.
